What Used To Be
by floatyourboat
Summary: As the 55th Annual Hunger Games approaches, Haymitch Abernathy is dreading being a mentor again. He's losing his confidence in his tributes, the Capitol is draining him, and it's taking all the strength he has to control his drinking. Could one more Games be all that's needed to push him over the edge?
1. Chapter 1

Haymitch groaned, and checked the clock next to his bed. Half past five. He'd been tossing and turning all night, but as the sun began to stream through the gap in his curtains, he admitted defeat. There was no chance of getting any sleep now. Not that he'd been expecting much sleep anyway. All night, the second he began to close his eyes, he'd seen them. Hundreds of young children, underfed and unhealthy from a life in the Seam, their grey eyes staring up at him, helpless. Or large, blue, merchant eyes, brighter and healthier, but in the end just as helpless. One boy, and one girl. Pleading to him... Haymitch rolled over and pulled his pillow over his head, fists clenched over the material. This was going to be a long day.

By seven o'clock, Haymitch was washed, dressed, and downstairs, clearing up empty bottles from the night before. He sighed, picking up a few too many empty glasses. He had to try not to make a habit of drinking that much, even if only to avoid the awful headache currently clouding his thoughts. Thoughts that all led back to the same thing.

Today was the Reaping Day in Panem. At different intervals over the day, in every district, one boy and one girl would be chosen to compete in the Hunger Games, for the Capitol's entertainment. The unlucky two to be chosen from District Twelve would be mentored by Haymitch Abernathy, District Twelve's only living victor, and whatever Capitol drone they sent to help out this year. They'd go through a few weeks of training, and spend a few hours in the public eye, before being thrown into an arena to fight to the death. Being from District Twelve, they'd probably die in the first few days. Then next year the whole process would start again. Haymitch had almost given up on training them.

It wasn't like he knew much to teach them anyway. Sure, he knew how to handle a few weapons, and could fight well enough. But Haymitch had used brains to outsmart his enemy. He'd used the Capitol's own restraints against them, and it had caused him to lose everyone he loved. There was no way he'd advise any young tribute to do the same.

Hours passed, and Haymitch tried to keep himself occupied. He cleaned the rest of the house, checked the garden, made lunch - anything to stop his mind wandering back to the afternoon ahead of him. But by half past noon, he'd done everything he could think of, and failed to stop himself thinking about the young boy and girl he'd soon be meeting. Giving in for the second time that day, Haymitch headed for the square, and prayed for an easy escape. Maybe an orphan, with no family to mourn them. Or at least someone infuriating.

The square was separated into it's usual pens; boys on one side, girls on the other. The oldest at the front, the youngest at the back. Like animals waiting for slaughter. A few children had arrived early, possibly unable to stand waiting around at home. They stood in their designated areas, awkwardly spread out. Some were looking around, taking in another reaping day, but most had their eyes firmly stuck on the ground, defeated. Haymitch took his seat on stage, and watched the square fill up, a few children here and there catching his eye. The girl who had to detatch herself from her crying younger sister. The boy who tried to walk bravely to his area, but tripped over the rocky ground on the way. The girl with tired, red eyes who turned up only a second before the reaping, and had to push her way through the crowd.

"Haymitch."

His thoughts were interrupted by the voice behind him, and Haymitch turned to find the mayor behind him. They nodded hello and shook hands before the mayor headed to the microphone to begin the reaping - Haymitch knew that was all the mayor could handle today. This was his sons final reaping, meaning he had worse odds than ever before. Still not as bad as those from the Seam, however, but no good could come from reminding the mayor of that today. Whoever got picked, got picked. In the end, the odds barely mattered.

As the mayor finished his speech, a young girl in a white blond wig, too high heels, and a dress long enough to trip on walked up onto the stage, and towards the microphone. Obviously the Capitol drone for this year. Haymitch was sure someone had told him her name, in one of the hundred of calls from the Capitol to prepare him for today, but he'd obviously not been paying attention. Peppy... Emmy... Weffie... Some ridiculous Capitol name anyway. He'd tried not to roll his eyes as she began speaking in her silly Capitol accent:

"Welcome to the 55th annual Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!"


	2. Chapter 2

As Capitol Girl started to talk about her love for the humble district lifestyle, Haymitch let his eyes fall down to the two separate glass balls in front of her, each full of paper slips. One of girls names, which Capitol Girl would reach into in a second, and one of boys names, which would follow straight after. In a few minutes time, Haymitch would know the names of the two tributes he'd be leading to their death. He took a deep breath, and tried to push those thoughts out of his head, just for a few more seconds.

But those seconds were up before Haymitch could finish his breath. Capitol Girl's fingers, complete with elongated, bright pink fingernails, had reached into the first bowl and plucked a paper slip. She smiled brightly at the defeated faces staring up at her, opened the folded slip, and announced brightly:

"Adara Green!"

Haymitch scanned the crowd frantically, searching every corner of the square for the unfortunate girl, until his eyes fell upon the girl already on the stage, shaking Capitol Girl's hand. Immediately, Haymitch began analysing Adara Green, looking for anything that could give her a helping hand in the arena. She was one of the oldest of the children, possibly eighteen, which would explain how she got on to the stage so quickly. Her dark hair and tanned skin suggested she was a Seam girl. She didn't seem to be strong, but she was pretty enough, which would probably help with sponsors. But the one thing that caught Haymitch's eye was her expression. Adara Green had effectively just been sentenced to he death, but as she shook Capitol Girl's hand, she smiled. A smile that made it clear to anyone watching that she wasn't afraid. Haymitch made a mental note to keep an eye on this one.

After no volunteers came forward - predictably - Capitol Girl moved across, and hand-selected the male tribute from the hundreds of names. Haymitch felt the mayor tense up beside him. One eighteen year old had already been called, and Haymitch knew the mayor was thinking of his son somewhere in that crowd. Capitol Girl read the slip of paper, and called into the square:

"Nicholas Cutler!"

The silence that followed was colossal. Just as the male group began to look around confused, a small, nervous boy pushed his way to the stairs. Haymitch immediately recognised him as the young boy who had tripped before the reaping began. He had obviously come from right at the back or the group, which, along with his curly blonde hair and large blue eyes, placed him at around twelve. Haymitch sighed inwardly. Twelve year olds were always the hardest to get sponsors for, and Nicholas Cutler's innocent look wasn't going to help. He looked even smaller by the time he'd dragged his feet up the steps to stand with Adara Green. Haymitch watched as Nicholas Cutler looked up at Adara Green, and the two tributes met each other for the first time. As they shook hands, the eighteen year old smiled sadly at the twelve year old. After a flash of confusion passed through his huge eyes, the boy gave the girl a small smile back, as Capitol Girl asked for volunteers. Still, nothing broke the silence in the square.

As the mayor stepped forward to read the Treaty of Treason, Haymitch regarded his tributes. Neither of them were great warriors; no one in District Twelve was. He could probably pull a few sponsors for Adara Green, as long as she was willing to play up to the Capitol, but the tributes rarely were. Except for the Careers, of course. As for Nicholas Cutler, he'd be trickier. Sponsors looked for muscles, for tributes who could take out the rest with their bare hands. Nicholas Cutler had the look of a young boy who'd never handled a weapon in his life, much less a trained killer. His only hope was for a rich, maternal Capitol woman to fall for his blonde curls. It wasn't much.

As the Panem anthem began to play, Adara Green and Nicholas Cutler were herded off by Peacekeepers to say goodbye to their loved ones, and Haymitch was rounded into a car, to take the short journey to the train station. He ignored the cameras flashing around the station and climbed on to the train, heading straight to the dining car. He barely had time to pour himself a drink before the doors slid open again, and Capitol Girl entered. Up close, she seemed younger than her make-up had made her appear on stage. Maybe slightly younger than himself, but slightly older than Adara Green. Everything about her, from her pristine wig to her expensive dress, from her overly made up face to her higher-than-high heels, screamed Capitol. It was only the slight flash of fear behind her eyes as she surveyed the dining car that gave her away as human. She smiled brightly upon noticing Haymitch, quickly covering up her momentary lapse, walked over and held out her perfectly polished hand.

"You must be Haymitch Abernathy!" Her Capitol accent was even clearer now than it had been through the microphone. "I'm Effie Trinket. It's pleasure to meet you!"  
She seemed so posh and uptight that Haymitch thought for a second about curtseying. Resisting the urge, Haymitch shook her hand, and reminded himself that he'd have to be working with this girl for who knew how long, and she didn't look like the type to have a sense of humour. It would probably be best to keep on her good side for a while.

Pouring herself a cup of coffee, something Haymitch had never grasped the appeal of, Effie began a discussion of the tributes, and Haymitch remembered she wasn't just on the train to represent the Capitol, but to help mentor the two kids. That Effie Trinket may actually have something helpful to say.

"That Adara girl is rather pretty, isn't she?"

Or maybe not.

"Of course, she's only District pretty. But the stylists can always remedy that - you know, to make her presentable to the Capitol" Effie continued to sip her coffee, apparently unaware of what she was saying, and who she was saying it to. Haymitch knew this was how they spoke about the Districts in the Capitol. People to be pitied, that they could help. Charity, almost. He refrained from getting up and walking out, and listened as Effie moved on to the young boy.  
"Such a pity," she sighed, "for you all to get a twelve year old. They're never much competition, are they? Well, he's cute, at least. He may capture a few Capitol hearts before the games begin."  
Haymitch found himself holding an empty glass, having drunk all of his wine to stop himself from lashing out at Effie Trinket's views of the Tributes. As he contemplated whether to get a refill - he didn't want a repeat of last night, especially not over the next few weeks - the door to the car slid open again. Haymitch and Effie whipped their heads around in time to see the doors close behind Adara Green. She smiled, slightly nervous, and sat down at the table. Effie poured out another mug of coffee, and handed it to her.

"Lovely to meet you, Adara. I'm Effie Trinket, and no doubt you know Haymitch Abernathy?" Effie gestured to Haymitch, who nodded, and received a small wave in return. Now that Adara was closer, Haymitch reassessed his earlier decision that she was a Seam girl. Her dark hair and tanned skin meant she resembled the coal miners, there was no doubt about that. But she wasn't skin and bones, a characteristic of Seam children gained from years of being underfed. As well as the fact that Seam children normally had grey eyes. Adara's were almost black, and were boring into Haymitch's skull, studying him. When she realised she'd been caught, she smiled, and for a second Haymitch felt sorry for her.

"Are you all right?" Haymitch asked. Though in shock, Adara looked surprising content for someone who just said goodbye to their loved ones. "Goodbyes weren't too hard?"

"Considering they were all kids from school I barely talk to, no, it wasn't too hard," Adara laughed slightly, lowering the tension in the room, "I hadn't even seen some of them since last year, but apparently they all love me now I've been reaped."

She rolled her eyes, throwing Haymitch off slightly. He waited for her to continue, but nothing happened. In the end, Effie asked the question on his mind.

"But surely it was hard to say goodbye to your family?"

Adara gave Effie another sad smile. "I said goodbye to them a long time ago," she replied, looking down at the floor. She brought her eyes up to meet Haymitch's, and carried on:  
"I'm an only child, and my dad died last year. Some terminal illness. He was in pain for a while before that, so at least he was put out of his misery. But it wasn't easy, figuring out how to get by without him. Then my mum died a few months after. A broken heart, the healer told me," Adara paused to laugh again, though there was nothing funny. "He probably just felt sorry for me, and tried to romanticize it. Either way, that was the only story I got. Anyway, I've been running the shop myself since then, selling shoes to pay the bills -"

Adara broke off, looking at her two mentors. Effie had tears in her eyes, and Haymitch knew his face was betraying his pity. Maybe she wasn't a Seam girl like he'd thought, and maybe she'd had enough to eat, but he'd be a fool to say Adara had it easy.

Adara laughed, genuinely this time, at her mentors' expressions. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to tell a sob story. I just thought you should know everything, if you two are supposed to help keep me alive." She didn't sound very convinced by Haymitch and Effie's job descriptions, and Haymitch wondered if she'd seen one too many games to feel confidant about her fate.

"Me too."

The three of them jumped at the small voice, and Haymitch turned to see Nicholas Cutler had entered the room at some point during Adara's story. The boy looked even smaller up close, which was not helped by the fact that he was nervously biting his lip.

"You're going to help me too, right?" Nicholas's voice was slightly high for a male's, and very quiet. Haymitch wasn't sure what to say, as he wasn't sure how he was going to help this boy. Before he could be forced to give any sort of answer, Adara behind him spoke.

"Of course they're going to help you too!" She answered brightly, gesturing to the seat next to her. Nicholas hesitated for a second, before shyly walking over and sitting with Adara. Effie poured a glass of orange juice for Nicholas, before she and Haymitch sat down opposite the two tributes, introducing themselves. The doors opened again, and two Avoxes served the four of them dinner. As the ate, Haymitch decided Adara probably had the best idea, whether she realised it or not. Until he could figure out what to do with Nicholas, it was best to treat him the same as he would Adara. Following this idea, he asked, "So what about your background, Nicholas?"

Nicholas thought for a second, before replying, slightly braver this time.  
"I have four older brothers, and we wrestle a lot. Also, my dad's a butcher."

Haymitch considered this. It wasn't a lot, but he could work with it. "When your dad's cutting the meat, do you ever help out?"  
Nicholas's eyes widened, and he shook his head vigorously. "He always said I was too young to handle a knife properly. He said I'd hurt myself."  
Haymitch tried not to sigh too obviously. He'd have a lot more to worry about than hurting himself in the arena, but it wouldn't help to point that out.

Adara smiled, and ruffled Nicholas's hair. "No worries, pipsqueak," she teased, laughing as Nicholas scowled at the nickname, "I've had plenty of practise making the shoes. I can teach you a thing or two." Nicholas smiled nervously up at Adara, looking happy to find someone friendly.

"Well isn't this lovely?" Effie exclaimed. "I think we're all going to get along just fine! Now, how about we watch the rest of the reapings?"  
While they watched, all settled on the sofa, Haymitch kept an eye out for anyone of interest. There was the brute from One, who'd volunteered before the reaped name had even finished being read out. The small, wiry volunteer with spiked hair from Three, who coincidentally looked as though she'd had a rather bad electric shock. The red-haired girl from Four who was greeted by wolf whistles from the crowd - "Now, really," muttered Effie, deeply appalled by the inappropriate behaviour. The boy from Nine who could barely stop coughing just to get on to the stage. Adara and Nicholas sat wordlessly watching throughout the reapings. Haymitch knew it was just crossing their minds that they'd most likely have to kill one of these tributes. Nicholas let out a whimper as the screen showed Effie Trinket pull out a name from the second glass bowl, and read out his name. Out of the corner of his eye, Haymitch saw Adara put her hand over Nicholas's, and give it a reassuring squeeze. She kept it there until Effie suggested they all get some rest.  
As Effie shuffled Adara and Nicholas off to their rooms, Haymitch headed off to his own, thoroughly confused. He'd mentored four pairs of tributes before this year. Despite putting up with each other, and one pair who were allies in the arena, none of them had ever been as friendly as Adara was being to Nicholas. And Nicholas seemed to be starting to trust her back. Adara obviously wasn't stupid. If she was smart enough to know Haymitch and Effie couldn't guarantee her safety, she was smart enough to know that a friendship with tribute couldn't last long. Haymitch had learnt that the hard way.

As he lay down on top of the covers, fully dressed, Haymitch tried to avoid sleep. He thought of strategies and sponsors, of Adara's dark, knowing eyes and Nicholas's innocent, bright ones. Of Effie Trinket's perfectly polished fingernails, and the District Twelve mayor, who was probably celebrating at home with his son. But as much as all of these thoughts seemed to disturb or panic Haymitch, none of them were enough to allude sleep for the night, and hours later, he felt his eyelids begin to drop. His last thought that day was of Nicholas Cutler looking up at him.


	3. Chapter 3

"You're going to help me too, right?"

Bright blue eyes standing out against the darkness. Not blinking, just staring desperately at Haymitch. Pleading. As they continued to stare, the darkness began to retreat. Soon he could see Nicholas's face, scratched and bloody. More and more of the young boy was revealed. His once blonde curls were now scarlet and drenched in blood. His limbs lay at impossible angles. All at once, the darkness disappeared, leaving Nicholas lying on a bed of grass, in the middle of a vast jungle. His mouth lay open slightly, an unanswered scream still on his lips. His blue eyes still stared at Haymitch, unrelenting. Unforgiving. Haymitch felt himself get pulled further and further away from the scene, and somewhere in the distance, he heard a cannon sound.

Haymitch awoke, still fully dressed on top of the covers. He was on a bed, on the way to the Capitol. He was not in the arena. Nicholas Cutler was probably waking up in his room, in another car in the train. Haymitch repeated this to himself over and over, and felt his fists gradually unclench, releasing the duvet underneath him. He got up and headed to the bathroom, trying to remember from last year how to work the shower. He ended up coming out the shower covered in flower petals that had seemed to appear from nowhere, wondering why that feature would ever be useful. But he was clean, at least.

By the time Haymitch had dressed, brushed off the stubborn petals, and made his way to the dining car, the rest of the team were already eating. Nicholas was throwing small pieces of bread into the air, laughing as Adara caught them in her mouth. Effie tutted disapprovingly, but couldn't stop a smile spreading on her lips as Adara tried to get Nicholas to catch the bread himself. As he sat down at the table, Effie gave up trying to be dignified, and laughed herself.

"Haymitch! I trust you slept well?" She exclaimed, passing him a mug of coffee.

Nicholas missed the piece of bread Adara has thrown for him as he noticed Haymitch, and looked guiltily down at the table. He immediately resembled a schoolboy who'd just been caught red-handed.

"Busted," Adara muttered, nudging Nicholas. He laughed quickly, stopping himself before he could get told off. "Morning Haymitch," Adara carried on, smiling so innocently Haymitch wondered for a second of he really just caught them.

"Good morning," he replied, trying to ignore the giggling around him. He ate breakfast, allowing the laughing to die down, and raised his eyebrows at Effie. Flustered, she took a deep breath, adjusted her wig, and told Adara and Nicholas to behave properly.

"Right," Haymitch started, once everyone had calmed down, "today, when we get to the Capitol, you'll both be sent off to your personal stylists and prep teams. They'll do what they can to make you look beautiful for the cameras. Then tonight, you'll be paraded round so that the Capitol can get a good look at you. Do what your stylists tell you, and behave. They can be as nice as they want to you, or they can make it all that much harder for me to get you two some sponsors. Sound like a plan?"

Nicholas's eyes widened as he tried to take in all the details. Adara nodded, and for the first time she seemed serious. Good, Haymitch thought. She's not an idiot.

* * *

"Does ANYONE is District Twelve make an effort?"

Adara flinched as man called Felix punctuated his statement by plucking a particularly stubborn hair from her eyebrow. With his face inches from hers, she found herself transfixed on the small whiskers spouting from just under his nose. From the way his co-workers had squealed excitedly when they saw him, Adara guessed this was a relatively new adjustment. It was also the height of fashion in the Capitol. Not that Adara could tell why.

"I don't know," sighed Papillon, who was just as hypnotizing, with skin dyed the brightest colours imaginable, "At least this one is vaguely pretty. Better than last year anyway." She carried on painting Adara's fake nails black, oblivious to the tribute's rising desire to scratch her with her new long nails. Neither Felix nor Papillon had acknowledged Adara's ability to hear what they were saying since they'd walked in. If it hadn't been for Haymitch's order to behave, Adara was sure she would have done something by now she'd live to regret.

Yindi gently pulled a brush through Adara's hair, and rolled her golden eyes. She let her yellow-stained lips fall to Adara's ear and whispered, "Don't worry, honey. We'll make you look radiant." Adara smiled. Despite the overload of yellow, making her look like either a goddess or a banana, Yindi seemed to be the nicest of the three preps. She spoke to Adara, at least.

For the next hour the three of them plucked every excess hair from Adara's body, leaving only the hair on her head, and a few eyebrows. Felix covered her face in powder, before drawing harsh lines around her eyes in black liquid, and staining her lips deep red. Papillon finished off her nails, so that they gradually shifted from black nearer the cuticle, to light grey at the tip. Yindi washed and dried her hair, scrubbing her scalp with her yellow nails, and used a steaming hot tong to make it fall in waves down her back. Once they were down, the three of them stood back to critically look her up and down. Adara stood awkwardly, slightly unsure what to do with herself, until the prep team decided she was ready to meet her stylist. Papillon and Felix walked straight out. Yindi smiled, and assured Adara that 'Chaucer' would be along soon, before following her colleagues.

Left alone for the first time that day, Adara walked closer to the mirror covering one wall of the room. As soon as the District Twelve team had arrived at the training centre, she been handed straight over to her prep team, so they could make her "fabulous enough for Chaucer to look at". Looking at herself in the mirror, she could deny she looked pretty. Her hair was smoother than she'd ever seen it, as was her skin. But her make-up made her look permanently shocked, and her lips looked like they were bleeding. As for the hairless body... It was probably Capitol attractive, but Adara felt exposed. She was about to reach for her robe, when the door behind her burst open.

"Adara, darling!"

Adara whipped her head round to see - well, nothing, at first. It wasn't until she looked down that she noticed the positively tiny man standing a few feet away from her, surveying her body. He couldn't have been much more than four foot. Before she had time to take in much of his appearance, he began talking, his Capitol accent the most pronounced she'd heard so far:

"As you must have heard, I am Chaucer, your stylist, and it is my job to make you look beautiful! Luckily for you, I just so happen to be a miracle worker, which is probably why they assigned me to District Twelve. Obviously, you lot need the most help, having spent the majority of your lives underground in some horrible mines. Speaking of the mines..."

Adara's eyes widened as she attempted to keep up with Chaucer's ramblings, but as none of it seemed to have anything to do with her costume for the parade, she allowed herself to fade out of the very one-sided conversation and focus on Chaucer himself. His short stature was made up for slightly by the huge white wig on his head, which, Adara noted, looked like a grander version of Effie's. She guessed it must have been the fashion at that time in the Capitol. Chaucer's face was covered in white powder, but none of his features had been brought back out. Even his eyelashes had been painted white. Contrasting horribly with his make-up and wig was his black catsuit, so tight Adara would have guessed he'd been sewn into it, were it not for the zip leading all the way down the front. The neckline and zip of the catsuit were highlighted with white feathers, a few of which fell and highlighted instead the floor Chaucer walked on. As Adara's glance lowered to Chaucer's feet, she noticed his white leather boots, complete with a spiked stiletto heel. She raised an eyebrow, wondering for a second how short he'd be without them.

"SO!" Adara jumped back as Chaucer launched himself towards her, landing inches away from her. Adara had to look down to make eye contact with him.

"Do we have a deal, darling?" Chaucer asked, an eyebrow raised inquisitively, as Adara realised she hadn't listened to a word her stylist had said. Panicking for a second, she tried to remember any detail her prep team may have let slip, to give herself some idea of what she might be wearing tonight. Instead all she remembered was Haymitch's advice:

_Do what your stylists tell you, and behave._

Adara smiled sweetly down at Chaucer.

"Whatever you think is best, darling."

* * *

**A/N - Sorry about the varying chapter lengths! I've written most of it already, but I didn't think about chapters while writing. It kind of depends on what's happening in the storyline, and viewpoints. So this one's a lot shorter than the last, but I'll try to update based in how long the last chapter was.**


	4. Chapter 4

The doors of the lift opened, revealing to Effie and Haymitch the bottom level of the Remake Centre, where the Capitol kept the chariots. They intended to give Adara and Nicholas some last-minute advice, get a good look at their costumes, and possible calm their nerves. Instead, they stared, open-mouthed, at the room they'd just walked into, which contained only the District mentors, and a spare chariot in case of emergency.

"Haymitch!" The two mentors turned to find Chaff, a victor and now mentor, running towards them. "Snow sent the victors out early. Something about the Capitol citizens getting restless."

"So Adara and Nicholas are gone?" Haymitch groaned. He'd wanted to okay their costumes before they left - he hadn't liked the look of their new stylists.

"They're gone," confirmed Chaff, "but you're going to want to see this." Without answering their questioning expressions, Chaff led Effie and Haymitch to a plush sofa, facing a large screen on the adjacent wall, where the mentors were expected to watch their tributes. The screen was focused on the tributes from One, meaning they had a while to go before seeing Adara and Nicholas. Despite Effie's occasional "ooh"s and "ah"s, none of the costumes were particularly impressive. Haymitch could see how the jumpsuits of wire (Three) and the robes of leaves (Seven) could have seemed appealing in theory, but the end results seemed to be falling apart, much to the distress of the tributes they belonged to.

"Keep watching, Abernathy," Chaff muttered as the tributes from Eleven left the screen. And Haymitch did watch, as Adara and Nicholas were pulled into view. In no more than a layer of make-up, a layer of black powder, and some very small underwear. He heard Effie gasp next to him, and avert her eyes. On screen, some of the Capitol citizens appeared to be doing the same, obviously unprepared, while others, the older, leerier men of the Capitol, sat forward in their seats. Haymitch made himself keep watching, as Adara and Nicholas smiled and waved to the audience. Nicholas's smile looked unmistakably forced, and even from behind the camera, his eyes looked red. Haymitch couldn't determine whether or not that was from the make-up.

As the two tributes from Twelve rode off, and President Snow began his speech, Haymitch was distinctly aware of the males among the tributes not so subtly staring at Adara and Nicholas, though he guessed Nicholas had nothing to do with it. He rolled his eyes as he noticed the brute from One actually craning his neck to get a better look. The stares continued as Snow finished his speech, and the chariots wheeled off to make another round before they returned to the remake centre.

"Unbelievable!" Effie ranted, getting up to pace around the room. "It's completely inappropriate! What was that Chaucer thinking?"

"He was probably thinking what every Capitol man in that audience was thinking," Chaff replied, gruffly, "That Adara is attractive."

"Chaff!" Effie exclaimed. "She's a tribute!"

"Relax, Blondie." Chaff laughed at Effie's expression, as she went from appalled at his statement to aggravated at her nickname. "You know the Capitol falls for the good-looking tributes first. Besides, what if she is a tribute? It's not like she's one of the fifteen year olds - she's only a few years younger than us."

"It's still inappropriate for you to be thinking of her in such a way!" Effie's eyes looked ready to pop out her head at any moment. As she spoke, the doors opened, and the chariots began to flood in.

"I'm only joking, you know." Chaff grinned at Effie, before getting up to find his tributes. He shouted back over his shoulder, "I wouldn't bother if you weren't so sensitive!"

Haymitch tried to hold back his laughter as Effie, red in the face, murmured something about finding the tributes, and shuffled off around the now crowded room.

"Haymitch!" Adara hurried towards her mentor, who was relieved to see she'd found a robe somewhere. She looked distressed, which wasn't helped by the majority of male tributes still staring at her.

"Adara, what happened?" he asked, looking around the room for either Nicholas or Chaucer.

"I just did what you told me to!" Adara replied defensively, tying the belt tighter on her robe, "Do what your stylists tell you and behave, remember? So I did what my stylist told me!" She gestured down to her robe, and sighed. "What is wrong with Chaucer? Not to mention whoever Nicholas had to answer to - he's twelve! The poor kid could barely raise his head!"

"I know, I know," replied Haymitch, thinking of Chaff's reaction to the tribute's attire, not to mention the majority of the Capitol's. He had a feeling the stylists hadn't had Nicholas in mind while designing. Desperate to change the subject, the mentor spotted Nicholas across the room with Effie, who was herding him out the room. "Lets just get back to the Training Centre and have dinner. I'll talk to Chaucer."

* * *

_"She's only a few years younger than us."_

Looking around, Haymitch tried to figure out where he was. The first thing to catch his eye was a huge golden horn standing a few feet from him. Rushing over, he found it empty, completely cleared of any weapons or food it once held. Turning to take in his surroundings, Haymitch noticed for the first time the mountain. The rocky terrain made it look easy to climb, but as Haymitch reached the foot of the mountain, his thoughts were interrupted.

"Haymitch!" The voice came from somewhere above his. Stepping back to get a better view, Haymitch's eyes fell on the figure about twenty metres above him, covered in coal dust. She laughed out loud as he stood paralysed with shock. Just as he regained movement, and launched himself towards the mountain to reach her, she climbed further up the mountain. The higher Haymitch climbed, the further away she seemed to be, her laughter floating down to him.

After hours of climbing, Haymitch saw a ledge running around the mountain. Pulling himself up the last few metres, he grabbed hold of the ledge and hoisted himself up, collapsing on to the rocky surface. He lay there, breathing heavily, letting his skin sink into the boiling hot rock. Boiling hot rock. He must have been thousands of metres into the air. Why was it hot? Raising his head just slightly, Haymitch could feel the heat rising from the lava before he could see it. He jumped to his feet, nearly losing his balance as he took in the mouth of the volcano, looking full enough to erupt at any moment.

"Haymitch! Over here!" Haymitch's head snapped towards the voice. The figure stood directly opposite him on the other side of the volcano, waving. When he set eyes on her, she laughed manically, throwing her head back. Her laughter echoed around the mouth of the volcano. Calming down slightly, she turned away from him, and raised her arms above her head, still giggling. And Haymitch watched, powerless, as Adara fell backwards into the volcano. As she hit the lava, Haymitch heard the blast of a cannon somewhere far away.


	5. Chapter 5

Only four people sat at the breakfast table the next day; Chaucer and his colleague had refused their invitation to dinner the night before, and had taken personal offence when Haymitch had attempted to talk to them about the revealing costumes. Now they stayed in their rooms, and nobody expected them to come out until the interviews.

Despite last night's dilemmas, the atmosphere by the morning was cheery. Nicholas and Adara had returned to their favourite game - first one to catch five pieces of bread in their mouth would win. Effie had long since given up trying to scold them and was busy dissecting last night's outfits, something she'd already gone into great detail about at dinner. Haymitch, who'd woken up on his bedroom floor after tossing and turning all night, was downing coffee in an attempt to wake up. He watched Adara cheer as Nicholas caught his fifth piece of bread. Haymitch didn't know where she was going with this friendship, which annoyed him greatly. He was her mentor; any tactics she had in mind, she should have discussed with him. He would have been able to talk her out of getting the boy to trust her, which could only end in disaster. Other than the occasional alliance, which only ever lasted a few days, there was no place in the games to become attached to anyone. Whatever plans she had, it was time to end them.

"All right, you two," Haymitch began. Both tributes put down their bread and gave him their full attention. "Your training begins today. When you get down there, don't go straight for the weapons. Start with the smaller stations - the plants, the knots, and so on. They'll be far more helpful than you'd expect. Only move onto the weapons once you've figured them out, and certainly not today. When you do, play to your strengths. Adara, practise with the knives. Improve your aim, and learn where the cuts can cause the most damage. Nicholas," Haymitch drifted off slightly, unsure what to say. "Try a few different things. See what you have a knack for." Nicholas nodded, biting his lip. He didn't seem to have a clue what he was good at.

"Don't worry about it, pipsqueak," Adara smiled, patting Nicholas's shoulder, "We'll figure it out."

"That's the other thing." Haymitch paused, as the two tributes looked at him, confused. "When you're in training, I want you both on different stations. At all times, no exceptions. Leave the gangs to the Careers."

Nicholas's lip starting bleeding as he bit into it one too many times. Haymitch noticed Adara frown at her mentor for a second, before quickly recovering.

"Come on, Haymitch," she grinned, putting an arm around Nicholas, "you can't keep me away from him! Look at his face!" Leaning down, Adara loudly whispered, "Look sad" into Nicholas's ear. Nicholas looked at Adara for a second, before obliging and staring up at Haymitch, his wide blue eyes on the verge of tears. Haymitch hesitated for a second, guilt weighing him down, before feeling an uncontrollable surge of anger rise in his chest.

"I am your mentor!" he shouted, making a mug of coffee fall from Effie's hand, and smash on the floor. "It's my job to try and keep you alive, and whether it's convenient for you or not, you will do what I tell you to!" Keeping his head still, he turned his eyes to Adara. "And as for any tactics you come up with, I'd appreciate it if you ran them by me. Because believe it or not, they may not be a smart as you think!" With that, Haymitch turned and stormed from the room, making his way down the hall. As he got further away from the dining room he heard footsteps behind him. Spinning on his heels, Haymitch turned to face Adara.

"Why are you doing this?" he yelled. "Why are you getting that kid to trust you? You're not stupid, Adara. You know as well as I do there's only one victor. The longer you keep this up, the more likely it is that you'll be the one killing him! Is that what you want? Is this a game to you?"

Adara let Haymitch finish, watching him. He took a deep breath, and waited for Adara to speak. As he waited, he noticed the fury behind her black eyes. When she spoke, her voice was calm, but cold.

"That boy has no chance in winning, Haymitch. You may not want to admit, and honestly, neither do I. But he was handed a death sentence by the Capitol the second he was reaped. You could spend the next year training him in every way possible, but he'll never be a killer." She held Haymitch's gaze, the two of them staying perfectly still. "Now me, I don't care about surviving this. I don't have a family to mourn me. The people in school will get over it. If it had to be any girl in our district, I'm glad it was me. But that young boy in there is terrified."

Adara broke the eye contact, and glanced back down the hallway towards the dining room door. When she looked back at Haymitch, her eyes had lost their anger, and only showed pleading. Her voice was gentler when she carried on, "You and I both know Nicholas only has a few days left. So why can't he spend it with people he trusts?" She waited for a moment, as if to see if Haymitch would reply. When he didn't, she turned and walked back to the dining room.

In the dining room, Effie was holding a napkin to Nicholas's lip. "Don't worry," she said brightly, "The other boys will think you've been in a fight. Not technically allowed of course, but it'll make you look tough." She smiled, gently patting his cut. Nicholas nodded, tears still threatening to spill over his cheeks. Effie turned the napkin round, and dabbed under his eyes. "Haymitch is just stressed, that's all."

Both turned their heads as the door opened, and Adara walked in. Effie saw the stress on her face before she could cover it up. She walked over and knelt down in front of Nicholas, ruffling his hair. "I told you I'd sort it out, pipsqueak," she said, smiling. A grin erupted on Nicholas's face, opening his cut again. Adara laughed, grabbing another napkin. "Come on," she said, dabbing his lip, "Let's get to training."

Adara waved away Effie's offers to accompany the two tributes to the bottom floor of the Training Centre. Instead, the mentor dabbed once more at young boys lip, and smoothed the older girl's hair.

"Would you like me to talk to Haymitch?" Effie asked as they waited for the lift, careful to keep her voice at a volume only Adara could hear.

"I wouldn't worry if I were you," came her whispered reply. "He's not going to be happy. But then again, when is he?" The elevator doors opened, and Adara and Nicholas entered. They said their goodbyes to Effie, promising to behave. The second the doors closed, Adara turned and knelt down in front of Nicholas.

"Okay, pipsqueak, you heard Haymitch. We'll start on the survival stations," she said, trying to keep her tone bright.

"Do we still have to stay away from each other?" Nicholas's voice was small and scared.

"Not completely, but if we split up we'll get through the station's quicker, and we can teach each other tonight, okay?" Adara grinned, and Nicholas returned it. Another drop of blood appeared on his cut. Wiping it away with her thumb, Adara straightened up, and the lift reached the bottom floor. Just before the doors opened, Adara patted the young boy's shoulder.

"He's only trying to help us, you know," she said, as the doors slid open to reveal a room full of twenty-two tributes, several trainers, about a dozen stations, and assorted weapons. Thanks to the distraction that morning, they appeared to be the last tributes to arrive. Nicholas took a deep breath, and the two tributes from Twelve joined the group, where a trainer was giving an introduction.

During the speech, Adara was distinctly aware of the majority of the male tributes sneaking glances over at her. Inwardly cursing Chaucer, she kept her eyes firmly focused on the trainer. He finished his introduction, and allowed the tributes to begin their training. Like a swarm of bees, the majority of the tributes headed straight to the weapons, keen to show off any skill they may have. It was only then that Adara noticed the room half way up one of the walls, where the Game Makers were watching them. For a second, Adara's focus fell on a young girl attempting to throw knives on the other side of the room. She felt a great temptation to go prove herself.

Adara saw Nicholas at a station nearby, using a book to identify different berries. Remembering their deal, she pulled herself away from the knives, and headed for a station promising to teach her how to start fires. Over the day she learnt about starting fires, tying knots, and which animals gave the most meat. Despite Haymitch's warnings, she found Nicholas again for lunch, and made sure to go over with him what she'd learnt that morning. He, in turn, attempted to explain to her the difference between two types of berries, but he struggled to describe their variations. Smiling meekly, he said "I know the difference when I see them". Adara smiled back, silently praying that he would.

When they got back to the twelfth floor, Effie was pacing the room. She leapt on the tributes when they arrived, asking everything about their day. As Nicholas began to explain about the berries again, Adara looked around the room, disappointed to see Haymitch was absent. She'd hoped he would put the morning aside, or at least help Nicholas if he wouldn't help her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nicholas watch her, his blue eyes worried. She smiled, and began to tell Effie about starting fires as enthusiastically as she could.

As the three of them tucked into their main course, the subject of training well and truly drained, the doors slid open, and Haymitch stood in the doorway.

"Adara," he said, without stepping any further into the room, "A word."

Adara hesitated for a second, before smiling at Effie. "Make sure pipsqueak doesn't try to steal my food," she joked. Nicholas laughed, and Effie smiled back, though the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Adara got up, and followed Haymitch from the room. He led her half way down the corridor, wanting to be sure Nicholas and Effie wouldn't overhear them. Once they were far enough away, he turned to face an expectant Adara. She watched him, eyebrows raised, waiting for him to yell at her, or to tell her he wouldn't be helping her any more. Haymitch held her gaze, his face giving nothing away.

"How was training?" He watched Adara's face betray her surprise, and she cocked her head enquiringly. "I don't want to know what you'd say around Nicholas to protect him. I don't want to know what you'd say to Effie to make her happy. As your mentor, I want to know how training went."

Adara said nothing, studying Haymitch. Then she replied, "I was hoping it would give me a better idea of the arena, but no. They had every station imaginable, so nothing could be narrowed down about the Games themselves. The Game Makers watched us like hawks, while the rest of the tributes prepared to attack each other. We stuck to the survival stations, split up to get through them faster, and I got stared at by most of the men, in the hopes that I'd run around half naked again."

Haymitch laughed at the last statement before he could stop himself. Adara raised her eyebrows again, intending to look unimpressed by his behaviour, but couldn't help smiling. They stood in the hall for a minute, just laughing at the idea some people could be so shallow, when there were so many more important things happening. When they were done, Haymitch regained his control, and started again.

"About this morning," he said, keeping eye contact. "I'm not going to apologise. And I don't think for a second you will, either. But for some unknown reason, I'm actually trying to help you two, and that's going to be a lot harder if everything's constantly sugar-coated. You can say what you want to Nicholas and Effie. But we need to make a deal that we're straight with each other. I won't stop you befriending him, but in return, you tell me everything - what weapons you're good with, what weapons he's good with, who looks like trouble. Everything. Okay?"

Adara nodded, smirking, and resisted the urge to dance. The deal was better than she could have hoped for - it wouldn't upset Nicholas, but it meant she could have someone to help her. Despite some disagreements, Adara respected Haymitch. She remembered his games. She remembered being thirteen years old and watching the television, with her parents, as an axe came flying back from the abyss. Her father had talked about it for weeks, saying "Smart, that one. That'll come back to haunt him."

"Truce?" asked Adara, still smirking. Haymitch raised an eyebrow, and began walking back towards her, towards the dining room. As he passed her, he replied "Better start smiling, Adara. We wouldn't want to upset them, would we?"

Adara rolled her eyes, and followed Haymitch back to the dining room. She was having second thoughts about this already.

**A/N - I am so bad at chapter lengths. It was either a long one or two short ones, and I didn't really want to make this into two. But I hope you like it, and thanks for the reviews so far!**


	6. Chapter 6

Over the next week, Adara and Nicholas got through all the survival stations, and gradually moved onto the weapons. Adara got her practise with the knives, and they discovered Nicholas's aim with a spear wasn't half bad. They would be focused during the training, and eat lunch together at midday, receiving some strange looks from the other tributes. At the end of the day, they'd return to the twelfth floor, where they'd eat dinner with Effie and Haymitch. Adara would gush about how well training was going, playing up both her and Nicholas's strengths. She even began to compliment the Capitol food and hospitality. Effie and Nicholas went off the bed every night happy. Adara and Haymitch would follow them, before doubling back to the dining room. Adara would then tell Haymitch what had really happened that day. He, in turn, would give her advice on what to do to improve, or to catch the Game Makers' attention. The next day in the elevator, Adara would suggest this to Nicholas as though it was her own idea.

One day, as Adara's knife pierced through a dummy's head, she felt someone watching her. This wasn't unusual - the Game Maker's had taken a special interest in her lately, though since they were mostly middle-aged men, she was sceptical about how much this had to with her skills. _Thank you, Chaucer._ But at that moment, she felt something far closer. Spinning round, her eyes fell on those of the spiked-haired girl from Three. Close up, she looked around fifteen, and though small, she looked strong. Her eyes bore into Adara, her hatred obvious. Adara struggled to remember her name from the parade. Sparks, maybe? That sounded right; she was from Three, after all, where they dealt with the electronics. Adara turned away, and carried on training. Whatever problems she had, Sparks could wait until the arena.

When Adara came back from lunch, she watched for a while, as Sparks furiously threw knife after knife at the dummies, hitting arms and legs, but never getting anywhere that could do much damage. The more she threw, the angrier she got, not helped by the brute from One - Julius, Adara remembered - who was watching her closely, laughing harshly as she missed.

Haymitch frowned later that night, as Adara filled him in on the experience. "Strange," he muttered, lost for a second in his own thoughts, "Apart from the occasional alliance in the arena, I can't remember tributes from Three ever being Careers. Keep an eye on her."

* * *

All too soon, Adara and Nicholas were saying their goodbyes to their mentors, and the elevator doors were closing between them, to take to tributes down to their private training sessions. Haymitch knew, as soon as the doors closed, that Adara would be telling Nicholas to show off both his survival skills, and his aim with the spear. She in turn would focus on her knife throwing, making sure to hit crucial areas with every shot. Haymitch had told her all this last night, while Effie and Nicholas thought they were asleep. All he could do now was hope for nothing disastrous.

The silence filled the twelfth floor as soon as the lift doors closed. Usually, Haymitch would go back to his room, only emerging for lunch. Effie would fret over the schedule, and check the tribute's rooms. Anything to fill the time before Adara and Nicholas returned. Today, though, felt different. After a few seconds of silence which felt like hours, Haymitch tentatively suggested they watch the tribute parade again. He knew Effie would enjoy critiquing the districts outfits again, but he had his own motives. He wanted to get a better look at this girl from Three - she sounded dangerous.

They watched in silence, apart from the occasional comment from Effie on the outfits, that weren't really directed at Haymitch anyway. As the tributes from One rode past, Haymitch got a better look at the male brute who'd openly stared at Adara - Julius, the commentators told him. He was well-built, with strong arms and a square chest, and towered above his female companion. He looked to be on the older side of the spectrum. From the sounds of the Capitol women's screams, he wasn't bad-looking either. The cocky brute was grinning into the crowd, waving, even winking. As sickening as his whole attitude was, Haymitch made a mental note to ask Adara about him; Julius definitely wasn't someone to be overlooked.

The tributes from Two were nothing unusual - having a closer relationship with the Capitol, District Two were better fed and more accepting of the Games. Every year, the boy and girl from Two were the ones that looked the most prepared to fight to the death, and this year was no exception. Haymitch barely batted an eyelid as they rode past, waving to the audience with blank expressions on their faces. He was more interested in the district yet to come.

The minute the tributes from Three appeared on the screen, Haymitch's eyes fell straight on the girl, whose name he soon learned was Sparks. His first impression left him confused - she didn't look like much, especially not compared to One or Two. So why had Adara mentioned her? He was about to give up, when the boy from Three waved so vigorously he hit Sparks in the side of the head. The boy laughed gently, and Haymitch saw him mouth an apology to her. Instead of laughing it off herself, Sparks stared furiously at the boy, making him recoil slightly. He turned around to wave to the audience again. The second his back was turned, Sparks's hand flew out, and hit the boy square in the shoulder-blade. The boy cried out, flailing around, and only just managed to stay on his feet. He spun around, glaring at Sparks, but she'd gone back to staring blankly ahead of her, unmoving.

"Well, really," Effie tutted, shaking her head, "At least Adara and Nicholas have some manners."

"I don't think any part of this is about manners," Haymitch muttered, making notes about the girl from Four. She had a refined air about her, and seemed to be looking down her nose at the Capitol citizens.

"Maybe not," Effie replied, "But they could at least appear grateful for the honour of competing!"

Something in Haymitch snapped. The parade forgotten, he turned to face Effie. Everything about her reeked of Capitol, and it suddenly sickened him.

"You like Adara and Nicholas, don't you?" His voice was far calmer than he felt.

"Well, of course," Effie laughed at the seemingly ridiculous question.

"And you'll be supporting them in the Games?"

"Yes," answered Effie in a patronizing tone, as though Haymitch were Nicholas.

"And you'll mourn them?" Haymitch tried not to smirk as Effie reacted to his question. She opened her mouth to reply, before closing it again, confused. It appeared as though Effie had never considered this.

"That's what I thought," Haymitch carried on, "There's only ever one victor in these games, Effie. So whatever the outcome, we'll be mourning at least one tribute. In fact, it's more likely that we'll be mourning two. I know how you lot in the Capitol view the Games; they're just a little light entertainment. But this year, you've got the opportunity to see how we in the Districts view the Games. Lucky you, eh?"

Haymitch turned back to the parade, as Effie took in everything he'd said. He was right, of course. She'd never thought about the children who didn't win before. This year she'd have to.

They watched the rest of the parade in silence, though none of the other Districts provided much competition. Haymitch tried not to avert his eyes as Adara and Nicholas appeared on-screen, and this time neither did Effie. Haymitch heard her gulp beside him, and prayed that she wouldn't start sobbing. Even the Capitol attitude was better than a mentor who couldn't keep it together.

Thankfully, Effie seemed to be thinking along the same lines. The gulp was the only sound Haymitch heard from her, and once the parade had finished, Effie seemed to be back to her old, slightly infuriating self.

"Well, the children may be gone for now, but we still have a schedule to maintain," she began, standing up from the sofa and adjusting her dress, "I would suggest that you prepare for tomorrow, Haymitch - the interviews are one of the most important aspects of the Games, and I'm sure the tributes will appreciate your help." And with that, Effie left the room, slightly quicker than she may have an hour before.

Haymitch didn't see Effie for another couple of hours. He was jotting down whatever he could remember from the last few interviews he'd seen, a half empty glass of wine beside him, when she flounced into the room, sitting down opposite him. Haymitch looked up, waiting for her to speak, but she said nothing; she merely read what she could of his notes. She was there no longer than two minutes before the lift button lit up, and the doors slid open to reveal the two District Twelve tributes.

Effie and Haymitch jumped up immediately, running the short few feet distance between them. Nicholas looked up at Adara, his blue eyes nervous. Adara beamed down at him, before turning to Effie.

"It was great!" She gushed, nudging Nicholas, "Wasn't it, pipsqueak?" Nicholas gave a small laugh, and nodded up at Effie, who let out a very visible sigh of relief. Haymitch waited while Adara elaborated, using her hands to mime out throwing knives as she told her story. Once Effie seemed suitably satisfied, Nicholas began to nervously recount his session, and Adara excused herself to get a drink. With a meaningful look at Haymitch, she made her way to the coffee machine on the far end of the room. Haymitch followed her, and leaned on the machine as she poured two hot chocolates.

Adara sighed. "It was fine. It wasn't a disaster, but it wasn't amazing either. I missed a throw about half way through, and the knife landed in the dummy's leg. But they seemed happy enough when I left. Average score, I'd guess."

"And Nicholas?" Haymitch glanced over at the boy, who was attempting to copy Adara's enthusiasm.

"I don't know," Adara sighed again, taking as long as possible fiddling with the mugs, "Before he went in I told him to focus on the spears, but if he could to show off his knowledge of the berries. He was shaking when he went in, and he didn't want to talk much when I came out. I just told him to play it up for Effie, so he wouldn't worry her." Haymitch nodded, and followed Adara back to the table, where she handed Nicholas one of the mugs.

Over the course of dinner, Adara and Nicholas recapped their stories again, now very obviously exaggerating to make Effie laugh. By the end of dinner, it transpired that Nicholas had fought a dragon which had broken into the training centre, and that Adara had completed her whole session underwater after the Game Makers had flooded the centre to put out the dragon's fire. Haymitch laughed along with the stories, but kept an eye on Nicholas throughout the meal. Adara was right, it seemed; Nicholas was far more upbeat than Haymitch had seen him before, and was determined to make Effie smile.

"Right then," said Effie, dabbing her mouth with a handkerchief as two Avoxes swept the remains of their dessert away, "Shall we watch the results?" The group settled on the sofa, waiting, the happy atmosphere slowly dying.

The results began straight away with Julius, the brute from One - unsurprisingly, he was awarded a ten. Haymitch glanced sideways at Adara. He hadn't had time to mention that he'd re-watched the parade. Drawing his attention back to the television, he made a mental note to bring up Julius that night.

The girl from Three, Sparks, was awarded a seven. Haymitch felt Adara stiffen beside him. A seven was good, admittedly, but not incredible. He couldn't help thinking back to the parade. From what he'd seen, he was expecting a higher score. One to match the Careers, at least.

There were a few scores that stood out here and there - A nine for the girl from Four, a three for the sick boy from Nine. Most, however, achieved average scores, which gave their competitors nothing to expect in the arena.

Nicholas let out a small whimper as the girl from Eleven received her score, his cheery attitude well and truly gone. Adara brought her hand up to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. "You're okay, pipsqueak," she mumbled, her eyes firmly on the screen.

"For Nicholas Cutler, of District Twelve," began Claudius Templesmith, pausing for a second to either build the tension, or to be told Nicholas's score.

"A seven." Claudius struggled to hide the slight shock in his voice. The same feeling was spreading through the top floor of the training centre. Haymitch closed his mouth, which had fallen open when he'd heard Nicholas's score. As Adara hugged Nicholas, laughing, he contemplated how this news could help. A seven was good. Better than he could have hoped, especially with Nicholas's age. A seven would intrigue people, meaning as long as Nicholas could get in a least one kill, Haymitch could scrape him some sponsors. It wasn't much, but it was more of a chance than the boy had an hour ago.

Effie was shushing Adara and Nicholas, as Claudius Templesmith began to speak again.

"And for Adara Green, also of District Twelve," Claudius paused, and Haymitch heard Adara stop breathing beside him.

"A ten." There was a moment of silence, before Nicholas launched himself onto Adara, hugging her. Haymitch turned to Adara, who was still staring at the television in shock.

"I thought you said it was only okay?" He whispered, as Effie set about ordering wine to celebrate.

"I thought it was," Adara replied, her voice hoarse. She hugged Nicholas back, smiling. The rest of the night was spent drinking wine and laughing, until Nicholas nearly fell asleep on the sofa. As Effie escorted him to his room, Adara and Haymitch doubled back as usual, and sat down at the dining table.

"So this is good, right?" Adara still sounded slightly breathless, as though the shock of her score hadn't quite worn off yet. "A good score will help?"

"It will help me get you sponsors, that's for sure. And the more sponsors you have, the easier I can make life for you in the arena," Haymitch looked away, and took a deep breath before continuing, "But-"

"It's made me a Career target, hasn't it?"

Haymitch felt his words die in his mouth. He simply nodded, surprised Adara has figured it out herself. She sighed.

"I've seen enough Games to know how this works, Haymitch. But it's still good. The tributes who don't get noticed die within the first few days. At least this way I get the sponsors." She yawned as the wine took effect, and glanced for a second at the door. "Anything else to discuss?"

"Actually, there is. Julius." Haymitch had expected a guilty look from Adara, or an explanation about why the brute's name hadn't come up yet. What he hadn't expected was the look of confusion that has just spread across Adara's face.

"Julius?" She furrowed her eyebrows, thinking, "Julius, Julius, Juli-" Adara leaned her head back as she remembered the name, and cocked her head to one side. "The tribute from One? What about him?"

Haymitch watched her for a second, frowning, waiting for the punchline. When it didn't come, he said, "What about him? How about the fact that he's a Career, strong enough to kill every tribute bare handed, and he just got a ten?"

In her tired state, Adara laughed, infuriating Haymitch. "He also has less brains than the Capitol drones. Trust me, I've been watching him in training. Maybe he can handle the weapons, but I wouldn't be surprised if he died from falling out a tree. He's also very in love with him self, and expects everyone else to be, too." Adara scrunched up her nose, repulsed.

"Adara, I really don't think this is someone we should overlook," Haymitch, tried to keep his voice calm, though he felt like yelling may knock some sense into her.

"I'm not overlooking him," Adara replied, smiling, "I've already looked at him, and I'm saying he's not worth worrying about. Now what about Sparky?"

As much as Haymitch would have liked to spend more time talking about Julius, he relented, and focused his attention on Sparks. He recounted to Adara the events of the parade, knowing she would have been too far behind to see it first-hand. When he was finished, a silence lapsed over the pair. Adara frowned, tracing the wood on the table with her finger while she thought.

"A seven's just above average, right?" she said suddenly, catching Haymitch off-guard. "Good for Nicholas, but not incredible for anyone else?" Haymitch shook his head, and she continued, "And in training she didn't seem to hit the targets very often. Makes you think, doesn't it?"

"Maybe it's just an anger thing," Haymitch muttered to the table, thoroughly confused. When he looked up again, he caught Adara trying to hide a yawn.

"Bed," he ordered, and Adara nodded gratefully, "You'll need your sleep for tomorrow anyway. We've got a lot of work to do."


	7. Chapter 7

_"Maybe it's just an anger thing."_

The rage surging through Haymitch was more than he'd ever felt before. It was less guilty than when he lost his tributes over the last four Games. It was less grieving than when he'd found out about his family. This anger wasn't diluted by any other emotion. It was pure venom, pulsing through his veins, clouding his every thought.

He could feel his limbs lashing out furiously, though he had no conscious control over where or why, nor did he care. He could faintly hear screaming from somewhere far off, but he couldn't make out who it was. It was being overpowered by the sound of harsh laughter, filling every part of Haymitch, fuelling his anger. They were laughing at him. He didn't know who it was, but they were laughing at him, and it was making him lash out harder than ever.

His limbs weren't moving as randomly as he'd originally thought - not his arms, at least. They were always moving in the same direction, with more and more force each time. He could hear the laughter getting louder and louder; he could feel the fire inside him burning hotter, building higher, consuming him. Something in him was about to explode, taking him with it, taking everyone in range-

And then it was gone. The rage disappeared, leaving him feeling hollow. The laughter died, taken over by an eerie silence. Haymitch felt his legs give way, and he fell to the floor. Free from the anger at last, he stared up at the training room ceiling, breathing deeply. His recovery was interrupted by a faint whimper. One he recognised far too well.

Scrambling to push himself up into a seating position, Haymitch struggled not to fall back again. There was blood splattering the floors, pooling around the blades which hadn't reached their targets. The rest of the blades were sticking outright from a leg, an arm, a torso, or slipping and clattering to the floor.

Adara's eyes were still open, staring at Haymitch, dark and empty. Nicholas's were closed, despite the twitching. Another moan escaped from his lips, before the twitching stopped.

Somewhere in the distance, Haymitch heard two consecutive cannons.

* * *

Haymitch grabbed a piece of bread from mid-air and ate it, smiling at the look of confusion on Nicholas's face as closed his mouth and tilted his head forwards again. Adara laughed, tearing off another piece of bread to continue the game. Effie handed Haymitch a cup of coffee, before sitting down to the breakfast of strawberries and yoghurt Adara had set out for her. Haymitch sipped his coffee, regarding his team. Over the weeks, they had begun to work like a well-oiled machine. He knew it couldn't last forever, but he didn't want to think about that.

Draining the last of his coffee, Haymitch slammed the mug down onto the table harder than necessary. Adara and Nicholas looked up immediately, the last piece of bread falling to the floor. Effie jumped, dropping her fork.

"Right," began Haymitch, as the two tributes turned their full attention to him, "Tomorrow, you have your individual interviews in front of the Capitol. These are essential in helping get you some sponsors, so today Effie and I will be training you for them. Nicholas, you'll go with Effie for the morning and learn" - Haymitch tried not to grimace - "poise and posture. Adara, you're with me for interview skills. We'll swap midday. Got it?"

His team, including Effie, nodded, and soon Effie was hustling Nicholas out of the room. Haymitch pulled up two armchairs and set them facing each other. He and Adara both sat down, before silence ensued.

"So," Haymitch began again, "During your interview, you'll need an identity. So I thought we could try out a few and see which-"

"Haymitch."

"-which one fits you best. There's cocky, but that usually works for the careers-"

"Hay. Mitch."

"-you could always try humble-"

"Haymitch!" Adara was laughing now, far too hard for Haymitch to carry on. He watched her, confused, until she was finished. While he waited, an Avox entered, set the cheese board he was carrying down on the table, and left. Adara was only just regaining her breath.

"Haven't you noticed I know just how to charm people?" Adara moved so her legs were folded over one arm of the chair. "Effie loves me, Nicholas looks up to me. Even you like me now, don't you?" She raised an eyebrow, teasing. Haymitch shook his head, but couldn't keep from smiling. She had a point. If she could get Effie to fall for her, how hard could it be to do the same with the Capitol?

"Well what are we supposed to do for the next-" Haymitch broke off as his eyes fell on the cheese board. He slowly got up, walked to the table, and pushed the cheese off of it. Then, still carrying the wooden board, he took down a picture off the wall, and hung the handle of the board on the hook. He noticed Adara cocking her head, curious, but said nothing. He picked up the two knives the Avox had left them, and handed her one. He then used the other to draw an X in the corner of the hanging board, moved out the way, and turned back to Adara.

Haymitch watched as her eyes narrowed. There was a sudden flash of silver, and Adara's knife was sticking out of the board, the point of the blade directly in the middle of the X. Smiling, Haymitch handed her back the knife, and drew a smaller X on the other side of the board.

* * *

Hours passed, and soon Haymitch, Adara, Nicholas, and Effie were eating lunch, discussing how their morning had been.

"He's the perfect gentleman," Effie gushed, smiling at Nicholas, who grinned back, "Perfect posture, perfect walk - it's like he was raised in the Capitol!" The three from District Twelve let Effie's last comment slide, and simply smiled and nodded.

Avox's came out to clear their plates away, and brought desserts; chocolates, cupcakes, fruits, and ice creams were soon covering the table. As they all began to eat, Effie leaned over to take a slice of melon, and Haymitch froze, his eyes locked on the space the melon had occupied. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do.

Immediately, Adara exclaimed, a tad too loudly, "Effie, I just love your outfit!" Effie looked down, smiling, and began animatedly explaining about the designer, the detail, the fabric. Haymitch nodded, smiled, and subtly began rearranging the fruits. As he reached back, he caught Adara's eye, and struggled not to laugh. Each piece of fruit had been moved around on the wooden chopping board to cover a dozen little Xs.

**A/N - I am so bad at updating. I didn't realise it had been this long, sorry! But just as a heads up for anyone following this story (thank you!), I'm going up to my grandparents for Christmas, so no wifi for me. Which means I'm going to have to take a break from uploading until the New Year. But Merry Christmas to all, and Happy New Year!**


	8. Chapter 8

Adara winced as another hair was plucked from her eyebrow, and Felix exclaimed "How on earth did they grow back this quickly?!" Ever since she walked into the room, Felix and Papillon had decided on their usual approach of ignoring her and complaining. Yindi had been a bit more friendly, smiling at Adara, and complimenting her hair. But none of them were distracting her from what was to come. Her interview she could handle. She wasn't, however, looking forward to seeing Chaucer again. She still hadn't forgiven him for her parade outfit, nor the stares she'd been getting since, and she was sure he was still offended. She only prayed he wouldn't take it out on her. The games would be a lot harder without sponsors.

An hour later, she was left alone, with a promise from Yindi that Chaucer would be along shortly. With her fingers crossed, she closed her eyes, and turned to face the mirror. Praying for the best, Adara opened her eyes. Her eyes roamed over her body. Hairless again, but she hadn't expected anything else. Bringing her eyes up to her face, she awkwardly attempted to close one eye, while keeping the other open to check her make-up. It seemed slightly more dialled down than last time. It was still dark, but the stylists had used powder instead, making it seem more smoky than harsh. Her lips were a dull pink, rather than bright red. She looked up to her hair, which was glossy, and again falling down in waves over her shoulders. She moved her head slightly to inspect it, and a lock fell in front of her eyes. When she brought up a hand to push it behind her ear, she heard a voice cry out.

"Don't touch that, darling! Honestly, are you ever content?"

She spun around, her gaze falling down on Chaucer, who was walking towards her, his eyes roaming over her critically. He brought his hand up to rub an imaginary beard and said nothing for a few minutes, while Adara stood as still as she could. She, in turn, inspected him. He seemed to be wearing the exact same outfit as the last time she'd seen him, and Adara briefly wondered if he struggled to find clothes that fit him. She then mentally shook her head, realising he must make them himself, though being dressed by a man who made a white cat-suit covered in feathers didn't fill her with confidence about her own outfit.

Once he was done inspecting her, Chaucer headed to a cupboard at the side of the room. He spoke over his shoulder as he opened the doors, and rummaged through the clothes.

"Now, I won't pretend I wasn't offended. I've only been a designer my entire life, so I'll admit I wasn't so happy about some District Twelve brute telling me my outfit was... inappropriate. But, I am a professional. Despite any struggles, I will prevail." Adara rolled her eyes at the thought of a Capitol man speaking of his struggles. "Now, darling. Tell me what you think of this."

Chaucer spun around, a hanger in his hand and an expectant grin on his face. Adara took a step forward and reached out, rubbing the material between her fingers. A slow smile spread across her face. "Now this is more like it."

**A/N - Happy New Year! Before you say anything, yes, I know this is ridiculously short, but I promise you the next one will be longer. I wanted to keep the next chapter by itself, rather than adding this on to it. **


	9. Chapter 9

"God, Blondie, would you calm down a bit?" Effie glowered at Chaff, and resumed muttering under her breath about everything that could possibly go wrong. Haymitch caught Chaff's eye and laughed a little, before the worry got the better of him. He glanced down over the balcony of the box at the Capitol audience below him. Soon, Caesar Flickerman would walk into the stage, and begin the interviews. Adara and Nicholas were last, meaning the audience would probably be restless. It was never a good slot, but it was the one District Twelve was always stuck with.

Again, he hadn't seen the tributes outfits earlier - they'd already left by the time he'd gone down to see them. No doubt Chaucer had sent them out early as payback for the last time. He put his head in his hands, and attempted to block out Effie's muttering, hoping for the best. As his vision was blocked, he heard, "Ladies and Gentleman, please welcome your host for the evening..." The name was drowned out by cheering, but it didn't matter. Everyone knew who they were cheering for.

Haymitch raised his head and watched as Caesar Flickerman, decorated with orange hair, lips, and eyes, walked on to the stage, smiling out at the crowd. Effie stopped muttering beside him and held her breath. Caesar worked the audience like an expert, joking and flirting, before introducing the first tribute: the girl from One. Some flouncy girl, who no doubt only volunteered to increase her popularity and impress the boys. Without her Career protection, she wouldn't last a day. Haymitch knew he should be paying attention, noting down anything that could help Adara and Nicholas, but he could feel himself zoning out already. He hadn't slept well the night before. Allowing for the fact that Effie seemed to be concentrating enough for the two of them, he let his mind wander, distracted by the colourful costumes of the Capitol.

Before he knew it, flouncy girl was off, and Caesar was welcoming his next guest to the stage. Haymitch felt his fists and jaw clench as he watched Julius saunter into the stage, shake hands with Caesar, and sit down. He had to grip the bottom of his seat as the brute had the nerve to wink at the audience.

"So, Julius, let's get right down to business," Caesar smiled widely, leaning forward in his chair. "Tell us about your strategies in the arena." Before he replied, Julius laughed, throwing his head back.

"Strategy?" He replied, as though the idea was utterly absurd. "Who needs a strategy? After a day with me in the arena, the tributes with strategies will be begging for mercy." There was a collective 'ooh' from the audience, followed by applause, and Haymitch took a deep breath to calm himself. Cocky, insulting. It was the exact same approach he'd used for his own interview five years ago, so he knew how effective it was. The Capitol wanted to see someone who they were sure could put up a good fight.

As Julius's interview came to an end, Haymitch began to worry about the amount of practise Adara and Nicholas had done. He and Adara had never actually worked out a proper technique, and the training with Nicholas hadn't gone much better. The poor boy couldn't look tough if his life depended on it - which unfortunately it did. Knowing that high in the mentors' box he was in full view of the Capitol, he kept himself upright with a blank expression. He mentally noted down every thing he thought might be important about the tributes, until he heard another name he recognised.

Apparently Sparks's stylists hadn't been able to tame her hair, which still stuck out in every possible direction. Her dress also looked a bit too big for her. As she walked out on to the stage, it somehow got tangled up with her heels and she stumbled forward, narrowly keeping herself standing. The cheers from the audience quickly merged into gentle laughter, and as Sparks recovered herself, Haymitch could see even from the distance her face turning red. From what he'd seen of her temper so far, he had a feeling the new colour had little to do with embarrassment.

Throughout the interview, the girl from Three barely said a word. She sat, stony-faced, glaring out at the Capitol, and soon even Caesar stopped trying to help her. The audience was just as quiet, but as she left Haymitch could hear murmuring behind the polite applause. No one seemed to know what to make of her. He briefly wondered what Adara had made of the strange interview, before refocusing his attention to the next tribute.

The rest of the tributes showed barely any competition - the girl from Four flirted outrageously, and the boy from Nine coughed the entire way through and ended up leaving early. Haymitch had almost taken all he could bear when Caesar began to talk about District Twelve. Suddenly no longer caring about anyone watching him, Haymitch put his head in his hands, and silently prayed for Chaucer to be gentle. He felt Effie tense next to him and heard her let out a small whimper.

"Please join me in welcoming - Adara Green!"

Raising his head carefully, Haymitch peeked out at the stage, curiosity getting the better of him. When his eyes fell on Adara stepping out on to the stage, he sat up, speechless. Her hair was glossy and falling down in waves, over her shoulders and in front of one eye. The eye that was visible was defined by smoky make up, and her lips and skin were more natural than last time. But her dress was something else. The top was black satin, starting under her shoulders and draping around her torso, fading seamlessly into a black netting skirt. It was shorter at the front, so she wouldn't have the same problem as Sparks, and a train fell behind her as she walked. The entire effect made her look tragically beautiful. It summed up the Games perfectly.

"Damn," Chaff muttered appreciatively from behind them. And though Haymitch was sure he'd mainly said it to get a reaction from Effie, he had to agree. As, it seemed, did the Capitol, who were going insane. Caesar led Adara to the seats, before sitting in his own. The crowd died down almost immediately.

"So, Adara. Let's talk about the parade." Straight away, Adara rolled her eyes and laughed.

"Oh, Caesar, do we have to? I'm still trying to live that down!" She replied, smiling brightly. The Capitol laughed loudly; it was as if they were under her spell.

"Well, you look beautiful tonight, dear, doesn't she?" The Capitol cheered again, and Adara put a hand to her heart on mock modesty. "But what we all really want to know is how your training is going. That ten was impressive, if a little surprising."

"You weren't the only surprised one, believe me," Adara joked, and again the audience fell into peals of laughter.

"Really, Adara, how is everything going? I trust you're getting on okay?" Despite the simple question, Caesar leaned in closer to Adara and made the whole Capitol believe this was a prize piece of gossip. Haymitch smiled - Caesar truly was the one great thing about the Capitol.

Adara laughed again, before replying, "It's been just great, Caesar. Me and Haymitch are getting on like a house on fire, aren't we Haymitch?"

It took Haymitch a few seconds to register his name, and to realise that every face in the Capitol had shifted upwards to look at him. He smiled begrudgingly, and as they all turned their attention back to the stage, he could have sworn he saw Adara wink at him. He rolled his eyes. Trust Adara to go out of her and the entire Capitol's way to tease him.

"And of course, Effie has been amazing. And Nicholas is an absolute darling. It's like a home away from home!" Adara finished brightly, and the audience collectively 'aww'ed. Effie beamed proudly, her chin held high. Caesar smiled at her happily, before carrying on.

"Now dear, before we run out of time, I must ask - you're an orphan, correct?" Adara's eyes widened, and she nodded, looking down at her hands. "What do you think your parents would say if they could talk to you?"

A pin dropping could have been heard in the hall as the audience waited for Adara's answer. She hesitated, before looking up at the Capitol. Taking a deep breath, she said, in a voice that carried throughout the hall, "I think they'd want me to win. To make them proud." The entire Capitol cheered, as Caesar could only just be heard reassuring her. As he stood up to see her off, he could only be seen mouthing the words as the applause grew loud enough to drown him out. Walking back to her place, Adara quickly spun around on her heel, and blew a kiss towards the audience. She turned again and headed to her seat, and Haymitch looked down to see thousands of hands reach up to grab the kiss. He raised an eyebrow. She'd somehow cast a spell over everyone, and he had no idea how she'd done it.

The audience eventually died down, and a sense of dread began to fall over Haymitch. Nicholas was up next. Had Adara's amazing performance just made it all the more tricky for the young boy to make an impression? Would anyone remember the small, scared child compared to the flirty, likeable enchantress? Before he could over think it too much, he heard Caesar cry, "Ladies and Gentlemen, Nicholas Cutler!"

The audience's cheer was slightly louder than usual as Nicholas walked on to stage, which Haymitch could only assume was due to left over energy from Adara. However, he had to hand it to Chaucer's colleague - the stylists had really stepped up. They'd put Nicholas in a simple black suit, with a matching black shirt and tie. The young boy complimented Adara's outfit, without being too overdone. He also, miraculously, looked a few years older. As he took his seat, Haymitch was pleased to see he was sitting up straight, looking up at Caesar. Adara must have had a word with him about coming across confident.

"So, Nicholas," Caesar began, leaning forward, "You're one of our youngest competitors this year. How do you feel about that?" Haymitch held his breath for a second - a single notion of fear, and the Capitol would eat him alive.

"I may be young," Nicholas began, his voice firm and stronger than usual, "but I can hold my own. The tributes main problem will be underestimating me." The audience whispered between themselves, and Haymitch let out his breath, surprised. Nicholas sounded braver than he had ever been since the Reaping. Even Caesar seemed to miss a beat.

Recovering quickly, he replied, "I'm sure no one will judge you based on your age. Now, just a minute ago we heard Adara refer to you as a 'darling'. Anything to say to that?" Caesar grinned, teasing Nicholas.

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, and smirked. "You've seen what she's like - it's easier just to go along with what she says than argue." He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and Haymitch's eyes widened in shock. The Capitol laughed almost as loudly as they did for Adara, and when Haymitch looked to where to previous tributes sat at the back of the stage, he saw Adara was doubled over in laughter.

Caesar laughed, and nodded with Nicholas. "I can see her being a hard one to argue with. So before we wrap things up here, just one more question. Do you have a strategy for the arena?"

The audience tensed, and Haymitch was sure Caesar had planned this question deliberately. He'd asked it to Julius, and no one else since. Nicholas paused for a second, obviously noticing the significance, before smiling slyly. "Of course I have a strategy. I don't plan to just wander aimlessly around the arena, hoping for a kill. Brains will always triumph over brawn." On the other side of the stage, Haymitch saw Julius stay unnaturally still, and swallowed nervously. Confidence was one thing, but had Nicholas just made himself the main target?

As the audience whispered and applauded, Caesar shook Nicholas's hand, before the boy returned to his seat and Caesar wrapped up the interviews. Haymitch took one last glance at Nicholas and Adara, standing next to each other and beaming, before the lights went out and Effie was bustling him backstage to meet them. He nodded goodbye to Chaff before following her to where the tributes were assembled.

Effie quickly found Adara and Nicholas, and pulled them both into a hug, telling them how proud she was of them. Haymitch couldn't help laughing at Nicholas's shocked expression as he tentatively hugged her back. Haymitch shook both their hands once they were finally released. "Brilliant," he said to them both, smiling. "Couldn't have planned it better myself."

Adara laughed, and ruffled Nicholas's hair. "Wasn't he brilliant? Scary and mysterious, while at the same time likeable. It was like a whole new Pipsqueak!" Nicholas laughed, squirming under her hand. Haymitch was about to reply when he noticed the two tributes still had an audience. Julius was watching them from the other side of them room. His expression changed completely when he looked from Adara to Nicholas - from admiration to contempt. Haymitch wasn't sure which sickened him more.

Keeping an eye of Julius, he moved the tributes and Effie towards the elevator. The night had been successful against all odds, and he wasn't about to let the brute from District One ruin it.

* * *

Adara set her mug down on the table, using her thumb to wipe away a faint pink stain from her lipstick. She was still fully dressed up from her interview, not having had time to change without raising suspicion from Effie. Haymitch drained the last of his wine, and set the glass down on the table. The atmosphere for their late-night talk was rather more subdued this evening. Both were suddenly very aware of what was happening tomorrow, and there was really not much more to discuss. They'd covered the other interviews, last-minute arena ideas, which weapons to focus on, who to look out for... The silence was dragging on, but Haymitch still had one topic to cover.

"You can't keep this up." He said simply, trying to meet Adara's gaze. "I accepted the friendship in training, but tomorrow is just the beginning of the end." His eyes almost pleaded with her. "You actually have a chance to win this thing, Adara. It's not going to be fun, or glorious, but you could do it. But we've both known about Nicholas since the beginning, and the longer you stay friends the harder it will inevitably be." He swallowed, attempting to keep himself together. "Promise me you won't stick by him."

Adara looked for a while as though she was going to ignore Haymitch's request. She said nothing, looking at the floor and carefully running her finger around the rim of her mug. Haymitch didn't take his eyes off her, and just as he began to wonder if she'd heard him, she looked up and quietly replied, "I promise."

Without warning, she sprung at Haymitch, wrapping her arms around him tightly, and laying her head on his shoulder. As the shock wore off, Haymitch hesitated, before putting his arms around the girl and resting his head on hers, hugging her back. It was a desperate hug; the silent goodbye of two people who knew they were doomed. After what could have been seconds or minutes, Adara pulled away. She smiled sadly at Haymitch, watching him for a few seconds longer than usual, before she stood up and, without looking back, swept from the room, her dark train following her. Haymitch sat in his seat for a little longer, studying his empty glass, before retiring to his room.

This was the first night in years that Haymitch did not have a nightmare. He never slept.


	10. Chapter 10

The goodbye the next day was far more formal. Haymitch was pleased to see that Effie was managing to hold herself together, but only just. If she was going to continue this job for the next few years, she'd have to harden up. Haymitch shook both tributes hands, and told them to stay away from the Cornucopia. It was his least favourite piece of advice, as the tributes never listened to it. He hoped this year would be different.

As they headed off to hovercraft, Nicholas's eyes were still red, and Adara's hand stayed firmly on his shoulder. Haymitch and Effie watched them fly off, before returning to the dining room. Neither of them knew exactly what to do. They sat at the table wordless, lacking the ability to do anything else. Minutes passed that felt like hours, and eventually it was time for them to leave, too. They'd spend their days in the centre of the Capitol, watching the Games and getting sponsors. They said nothing to each other during the car ride there. When Effie arrived, she put on her happy face, smiling and chatting to everyone she could. For the first time, Haymitch felt grateful she was there - getting sponsors had always been his weak spot, and he had a feeling Effie would be good at it.

He begrudgingly spoke to the Capitol citizens, smiling half-heartedly and laughing at tasteless jokes. It was all he could do not to injure the lot of them, but for the duration of the Games he would have to be likeable. Time passed painfully slowly, as the two mentors for District Twelve circuited the richest citizens, their minds elsewhere. Haymitch cringed as he remembered that the tributes spent their last moments before the Games with their stylists. He couldn't imagine Chaucer being a great comfort for Adara, and the little time he'd spent talking to Chaucer's colleague was less than pleasurable.

Haymitch knew nothing of the time the entire day. Sooner than he'd hoped, Effie found him to accompany him to the viewing hall. The every wall of the huge room was a television screen, broadcasting the tributes day in and day out. Avoxes littered the room, serving food and drinks to the audience. Though the Capitol citizens and District mentors were always silent during the more exciting aspects of the Games - the tributes entrance, and of course the deaths - the less interesting moments were always filled with conversation and laughter. To the richer Capitol citizens who offered to be sponsors, the Games were an annual social event, and something they looked forward to all year. It made Haymitch sick.

The room was in silence as the two District Twelve mentors entered. Every eye in the room was focused on one of the four walls. And on each wall was what they'd all been waiting for. The first glimpse of the 55th arena.

Empty of tributes, the arena still seemed busy and confusing. Ten foot hedges covered nearly all the area, creating a giant labyrinth. In the middle lay the Cornucopia, the usual golden horn, covered in packs and weapons. Around the outside, twenty-four hedges created twelve openings to the maze. And as Haymitch the screen, a circle opened on each of the hedges. Slowly, glass tubes emerged, and Haymitch could hear the audience around him gasp. The gasps turned back into silence as the tubes were pulled back into the hedge, revealing twenty-four young tributes. His eyes darting around crazed, he noticed Sparks. Then three unrecognisable tributes. Then Julius. Then Adara. Then Nicholas.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, let the 55th Annual Hunger Games begin!"

The countdown began. One minute.

Each screen split three ways, and each section held a close-up, so that every tribute could be seen clearly. Haymitch began scanning his tributes' faces, panicking, taking in every detail he could. Nicholas's lip was bleeding again, but his face was defiant and his eyes were looking straight ahead. His fists were clenched. He looked years older than the young boy Haymitch had met a few weeks ago.

Forty-five seconds.

Adara too was looking straight ahead. He could see her chest rise and fall slowly, her mouth open slightly as she breathed deeply. Her eyelids were still smoky with traces of the last night's make-up, and her fists were clenched as tightly as Nicholas's. Her dark eyes had never looked more determined.

Thirty seconds.

The silence in the hall was deafening. Every mentor had their eyes firmly fixed on their tributes, while the Capitol citizens looked over each one in turn. Haymitch knew he should study the other tributes, but he couldn't pull his eyes away from the two District Twelve citizens. One too young to be so traumatized. One too old to be pushed around. Both as unfortunate as the other.

Twenty seconds.

He scanned both their faces once more, looking for any last-minute ideas. Nicholas's eyes were slowly scanning his surroundings, taking in every tribute, every turn, every inch of the new arena. Adara, on the other hand, was focused on something out of view. Something Haymitch could only guess was the Cornucopia.

Ten seconds.

She was going to go for it. None of his tributes had ever listened to his advice, and neither would Adara. Haymitch wanted to close his eyes or look away, but still couldn't manage it.

Five seconds.

Four.

Three.

Two.


	11. Chapter 11

One.

Adara began climbing down from the hedge, hearing cries of pain from tributes who frantically attempted to jump. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Julius a few feet from her doing the same thing, and she was sure he was watching her. It would have unnerved her even in normal circumstances. As everyone attempted to get down, there was a moment without fighting. The calm before the storm, though she knew it wouldn't last. She had to act now, and fast.

The second her feet hit the ground, she ran, and within seconds she was at the Cornucopia. Though there were other tributes arriving at the same time as her, they left each other alone, focusing on getting themselves the best supplies. Adara scanned the weapons, resisting the hands attempting to push her out the way, before she lay eyes on exactly what she needed. Reaching out, she grabbed a thick leather belt and secured it around her waist, feeling herself elbow other tributes as she did so. The large sheaths attached to it landed against her thighs, and she was sure she could feel the smooth metal of blades through the thick leather. Sending her arm out again, she grabbed a large rucksack, and pulled it on to her shoulders before turning around. Right, she thought. Now it begins.

Her eyes found Nicholas just as he was backing away from another male tribute. Adara didn't recognise the boy, though he only looked around fifteen and lacked any muscles. He was holding a mace shakily above his head. It was clear he thought of Nicholas as an easy kill. Adara's feet set off underneath her as her hand groped around her belt, pulling a knife from one of the sheaths. Raising it high above her head, she threw it, watching the metal glint in the harsh sun. By the time the tribute fell to the ground, a knife lodged in his spine, Adara had already grabbed Nicholas around the waist. Because of his size, she could pick him up fairly easily. She placed a hand over his mouth, and ran towards the nearest exit, ignoring the cannon in the background.

The pathway alternated between sharp corners, forks, and long stretches between the high hedges, and Adara ran for a long time before she felt safe. Nicholas was still under her arm, thrashing wildly, his yells muffled by her hand, which was now covered in scratches from the boy's fingernails. Eventually, they hit a dead-end, and Adara put Nicholas down in a corner. She shrugged the backpack off her shoulders and put it down in the floor, walking past Nicholas to study the hedge. He watched her, speechless for a second. While the two stood, they heard another cannon.

After a few seconds, however, Nicholas seemed to recover. "What the hell was that?!" He yelled, frustrated. Adara turned around in surprise - it was the loudest she'd ever heard Nicholas talk.

Facing the hedge again, she said over her shoulder, "Believe me, it was necessary. Ahah!" Getting a second knife from her belt, she forced the blade into the bottom of the hedge. Nicholas watched, baffled, as she pulled the knife back and forth, sawing away at the branches until she reached about half way up the hedge, when she turned and cut across instead. As she sawed away, two consecutive cannons blasted. After she'd cut along a certain way, she turned the knife once more and headed down to the bottom of the hedge. Once she reached the ground, she pulled the knife out and stepped back. She studied the hedge for a while, before kicking her leg out. As her foot made contact with the hedge, the rectangle she had just cut collapsed inwards, and another cannon could be heard.

She turned to Nicholas, grinning triumphantly. "Hollow," she said, satisfied. "I figured they had to be, in order to get our tubes through them to begin with. But my guess is that they also make a brilliant base." Leaning forward, she picked up the rectangle of hedge that now acted as a door and pulled it back in place. Standing back, she smiled once more, ignoring the next cannon. Unless a tribute really studied the hedge, they'd never notice, and any tribute who felt they had time to stand around and study a hedge wouldn't be around for long. Satisfied, she bent over a picked up the backpack. Another cannon blasted.

"Okay, now that that's out of the way, let's have a look in here." She chucked the backpack to Nicholas, feeling he'd been inactive for far too long. He caught it and unzipped it, pouring the contents out on to the ground to the sound of the cannon. The two sat cross-legged on the ground to study their supplies. A pack of six strips of some sort of meat, one small knife in a leather sheath, and one thermal jacket. Adara nudged the sheath over to Nicholas, gesturing down at her own belt. "I think I've got enough."

Nicholas picked up the sheath, turning it over in his hands, a cannon blasting in the background. He looked up at Adara. "Sorry about your hand." He paused, his voice back to its quiet tone again, "Does this mean we're working together?"

Adara hesitated. She knew what had to be done. It wasn't going to be easy, and he was going to get hurt, but it would be for the best in the end. She hoped he would understand that.

_I'm sorry Haymitch_, she thought, before smiling at Nicholas.

"Of course we are, pipsqueak."

* * *

**A/N - Sorry for the long gap between chapters! When I started putting chapters up, I'd only written so much of the story, and now I'm beginning to catch up with myself. So I'm going to have to spread out the time between chapter uploads, to give myself time to finish writing. But here's the first bit of the Games, hope you like it!**


	12. Chapter 12

"Of course we are, pipsqueak."

Haymitch closed his eyes and breathed out heavily, before downing the rest of his wine. He slammed the glass down on the table he was now sitting at, bringing his hand up to rub his temple.

After Adara grabbed Nicholas and ran, and Haymitch decided to start drinking early, the camera had panned back to watch the fight. The mentors and Capitol citizens had watched in awe as the battle raged on - tribute against tribute, district against district. Haymitch had seen it so many years in a row he was almost immune to the violence, the blood staining the floor of the arena and the scream escaping from the lips of the tributes who couldn't survive an hour.

The camera had focused on one fighting pair - a boy and a girl only a few years apart, the boy armed with a dagger, the girl only her body. As hard as she fought, screaming furiously with every punch, kick, and bite, there was a collective, unspoken agreement throughout the hall that she wouldn't get far without a weapon. Sure enough, the boy's leg soon kicked out, tripping the girl and making her fall to the floor. Before she could look up, she let out a sharp gasp of pain as the boy's dagger pierced her chest. The malicious grin on the face of her fellow tribute from Two was the last view she ever saw.

Haymitch was almost immune.

That had been around half an hour ago. Though the viewing hall had been in complete silence during the beginning fight, and there'd been a loud murmur when Adara kicked in the hedge, a low-level of conversation had now broken out. Haymitch had decided to let Effie handle the possible sponsors for a while, instead grabbing another drink and sitting down to watch the first day.

As he looked back up at the screen, he noticed the camera had changed. Sitting up, he studied the group of tributes heading down one of the arena's pathways. The conversation in the hall dimmed slightly as the mentors and Capitol citizens got their first look at the year's Careers.

Julius was at the head of the pack, his head held smugly high, a sword in his hands. His strength alone would be enough to kill any of the tributes, but Haymitch guessed he couldn't resist the chance to show off with a fancy weapon. The girl from One was behind him, talking animatedly, mimicking screams and cries for help. The boy from Two was laughing along with her, a bloody dagger still in hand, and the girl from Four was smirking contentedly. Sparks was walking along side them, but she didn't look too happy about her acceptance into the group. As the cameras closed in, it was clear she was gritting her teeth, flinching in annoyance as the girl from One let out a particularly high-pitched laugh.

Suddenly, Julius stopped. The Careers halted behind him immediately, waiting for their orders. Even Sparks stopped to listen. Haymitch tried to hear what they had noticed over the renewed conversation in the hall, but before he could get any idea, Julius was yelling "Come on!" He grinned, and began running along the pathway. The rest of the group followed him, all whooping eagerly except Sparks, who sprinted furiously beside them. Julius was first to turn the corner, slowing down to a complete stop. The Careers copied him, and for the first time, Haymitch saw Sparks smile as they looked upon the tribute they had cornered.

Nicholas had somehow disappeared from the dead-end while the cameras weren't watching, but Adara remained, standing with the biggest knife in her belt pointed directly at the group in front of her. The viewing hall fell into silence as one by one the mentors and Capitol citizens noticed the scene. Out of the corner of his eye, Haymitch could see Effie had come to sit with him. He held his breath, watching the screen as Adara's eyes flicked between the group. As the viewing hall watched with bated breath, she lowered her knife, shaking her head as she turned away and picked up the backpack.

Effie gasped, but before Haymitch could react he heard Adara's voice carry throughout the room. "So it's only you lot, then."

A low murmur spread around the hall, and mentors looked at each other confused. They had all been expecting a fight, or at the very least an easy kill. Adara's lack of interest seemed to have baffled the Careers too, a few of whom looked to one another for reassurance. Julius, on the other hand, stayed still, watching Adara curiously. Slowly, his low chuckle started to fill the hall.

"Are you not scared of me, darling?" He teased, walking slowly towards Adara. Haymitch tensed, loathing Julius's tone. He despised the tribute even more the closer he got to Adara, looking her up and down as though she were some sort of prize. Or meat.

Haymitch smirked as Adara rolled her eyes. "Hardly," she replied, getting the thermal jacket out of the backpack. "A brute with more muscle than brain, and no idea how to use the blade he's holding. I'd say you're more likely to hurt yourself than me."

Julius simply laughed, only inches away from Adara now. "Such a shame," he replied softly, watching her intently. "I for one think you're terrifying."

"Can we hurry this up?" Sparks interrupted, her voice a tone too high to be intimidating. "I don't have time to sit around and watch you two flirt. Where's the boy, darling?" She hissed the last word, her hatred of Adara clear as could be. "We saw you run off with him." Adara raised an eyebrow at Sparks, and Julius turned to face the girl from Three, his expression unimpressed by the interruption.

"I don't know," Adara replied, her tone exasperated. "I thought he might be an easy kill, but the little bugger bit my hand. When I dropped him from the pain he ran off." She held her hand out, and the camera quickly zoomed in. There were clear red teeth marks on the back of her hand, standing out from the scratches Nicholas had left earlier.

Some quiet comments spread through the viewing hall, and when Effie whispered to Haymitch, "Where did they come from?", Haymitch shook his head in confusion - that was always the downside to only seeing what the cameras decided to focus on, especially for the mentors. Every year there were mysteries that went unsolved. Before he could wonder too much about it, Julius was talking again. He'd returned to his position inches away from Adara.

"Why don't you come with us, darling?" He smiled slyly, as the rest of the group stayed far behind, not looking particularly inviting. "I've seen you throw - you're one of the best fighters in this thing. Like us." He gestured back to the Careers who tried to carry on looking intimidating, all but Sparks failing as they enjoyed the compliment. "But you're not going to get far on your own. So how about it?"

Haymitch frowned. As far as he could remember, he didn't think a tribute from Twelve had ever been a Career. He watched Adara's face intently. He was sure she wouldn't take Julius up on his offer. But as he thought about how differently she was acting around the Careers, and the way she had charmed the audience in her interview, he couldn't help wondering - had she blinded him, too?

On the screen, Adara looked up to Julius, his face still far too close to hers for comfort. She raised an eyebrow again, and replied "I'm fine on my own, thanks." Taking a few steps back from him, she put the jacket over her shoulders, zipping it up. The surprise was evident on Julius's face, though he quickly covered it up, stepping back to join the group.

"Okay," he began, turning to face her one last time. "Then how about you stay here? We'll check in with you every now and again, to see how things are going. And you can let us know if you find that kid again." He grinned, and winked at Adara. "Sound fair?"

Haymitch felt his jaw clench. The brute's cockiness was sickening. His eyes widened, however, when Adara smiled and sweetly replied "Sounds good to me."

Julius smiled approvingly and turned to leave the dead-end, the Careers already leaving in front of him. "See you soon, darling!" He called over his shoulder. As they left, the girl from One firing question after question at Julius about what just happened, the cameras stayed with Adara. She waited a few seconds until she was sure they were out of ear shot, before calling, "Okay, they're gone."

The rectangle Adara had cut out of the hedge earlier fell to the floor, and Nicholas emerged from the inside, a look of disgust on his face. "'Darling'?" he asked, repulsed, "You're letting him call you 'darling'?"

"It needs to be done. Unfortunately." She shuddered, and looked back at Nicholas. "I've got his attention now at least. He thinks I'm on his side, and you saw what the rest of the group was like. They'll go along with whatever he says, for fear of him tearing them limb from limb.

"Look, let me worry about the brute - I know what I'm doing." She rolled her eyes, before they fell on Nicholas's hand. "What's that?" She quickly grabbed his hand, snatching something out of it. The camera zoomed in as she opened her hand, focusing on a few squashed red berries. The camera zoomed out again as Adara's face took on a look of pure panic.

"How many of these have you eaten?" She asked quietly. Nicholas didn't reply, stunned by her sudden concern, and she raised her voice. "Nicholas, how many of these did you eat?" She was yelling now, advancing on the boy.

"Only a few! I was hungry, I didn't eat this morning!" Nicholas backed away, holding his hands up. "What's the problem?"

"These are poison, Nicholas!" Adara threw the berries down, stamping on them hard. "Poison!"

"No they're not." The boy replied, stopping in confusion.

"Yes they are! I looked these up in our last training session!"

"No, they're not!" Nicholas's voice rose, and Adara took a step back, alarmed by his sudden firmness. "They look very similar, but they're not." He turned around and leaned back into the hedge, coming out with a handful of berries. "These ones are poisonous."

The camera immediately zoomed in on Nicholas's hand, and Haymitch, who had held his breath since Adara's accusation, leant forward. The berries he was holding looked exactly the same to him as the berries he was just eating. The mentors seemed to think the same - they began murmuring to each other again, something they hadn't done since the Careers left.

Adara appeared to be just as confused. "Nicholas, these look exactly the same," she said, beginning to laugh. "How am I supposed to tell the difference?"

"You won't have to. I can." Nicholas smiled up at Adara, standing straighter and pushing his shoulders back. "I can protect you." He tossed the poisonous berries away, and leaned in to grab some others, that Haymitch assumed were safe. "They hydrate you too, which would explain the lack of water around here. We just need to make sure to eat enough of them."

Adara smiled, shaking her head. "Come on, let's see if we can figure out how to sleep. It'll be pitch black soon." She unzipped the jacket and shrugged it off her shoulders, holding it out to Nicholas. "This doesn't really fit me."

Nicholas hesitated, before eventually taking the jacket. "I don't believe you. But I'm not arguing." As he put his arms through the sleeves, he added "I think I get why you had to bite your own hand now. Does it hurt?"

"Nah, I barely broke the skin." Adara shrugged, smiling.

"Good," Nicholas murmured, adding, "I don't like Julius. He thinks everyone loves him when they don't."

Haymitch smiled. Nicholas was a good judge of character. The mentor would have been content to watch the two tributes settle down, but the camera changed at that point to a shot of a boy Haymitch didn't recognise. Sighing, he got up to get another drink. He didn't know what Adara was up to, and a very small part of him didn't want to know. However, he could probably play up her act to the sponsors.

As for Adara breaking her promise... he didn't want to think about it. It was obvious now she'd had a plan all along she'd never told him, and he felt slightly betrayed. He'd trusted her after their agreement to share all their plans, and their late night meetings, and he couldn't help wondering if she'd treated him the same way she was now treating Julius. He shuddered at the thought.

Grabbing two new glasses of wine, he returned to the table, handed one to Effie, and braced himself. Whatever Adara had planned, he needed to help her and Nicholas. And if that meant socialising with rich Capitol citizens, then he'd need to do it with a drink.


	13. Chapter 13

Adara pulled her knees up to her chest and leant backwards on to the hedge, which was surprisingly sturdy despite being hollow. It was only just sundown and she was already beginning to feel the cold, but nothing could make her ask for the jacket back from Nicholas. The boy was curled up beside her, seemingly more comfortable, and both the tributes were watching the sky. Sure enough, before too long the anthem started playing and the two tributes from Twelve began to see all the faces that had died in the arena so early.

The girl from Two was a surprise. Adara had just assumed she would be part of the Career pack, but now that she thought about it, she hadn't even noticed her absence in their confrontation earlier. She felt a brief pang of guilt, then shook her head. She hadn't known the girl, and the tributes from Two were always Careers - how was she to know that this year would be different? Besides, if she started to feel bad for every death in the Games, she'd never get far.

Throughout the day, Adara had counted thirteen cannons. Twelve more faces to get through. The next face was the boy from Three, then the boy from Four. The girl from Five. The boy from Five, whose death Adara decided she was allowed to feel guilty about. She saw a flash of him falling to the ground with her knife lodged in his back, and then he was gone.

The girl from Six. The boy from Seven. Both tributes from Eight. The sick boy from Nine. Both tributes from Ten. The girl from Eleven. Then the Capitol seal flashed across the sky, the music faded, and the two tributes from Twelve were left in darkness again.

There was silence for a while, as both tributes adjusted to the lack of light. Then Nicholas's voice rang out in the night.

"Adara?"

"Yes, Nicholas?"

"Are we going to survive?"

For a moment, Nicholas's voice sounded so small and thick that Adara was forced to remember just how young he really was. She had two choices. She could either baby him and tell him that everything would be all right. She could reassure him, and send him off to sleep with false hopes of seeing his family again. Or more likely, he would be sent off to sleep feeling patronised and younger than ever. She could do that, or:

"I don't know, pipsqueak."

They sat in silence for a little longer. If they turned to each other, they would have been able to make out the other tribute's outline, along with a few little details. But they sat with their backs to the hedge, both still staring at the spot in the sky where they'd seen the faces of late tributes only minutes earlier. Nicholas spoke again.

"I guess you could say" - he paused briefly, putting in a Capitol accent - "the odds are not in our favour."

Despite the tricky topic, Adara couldn't help laughing. "That was good, pipsqueak! You sounded just like Effie." She sighed, shaking her head at Nicholas's talent she'd never heard before.

"Thanks," Nicholas grinned into the darkness. "I used to make my friends laugh by doing impressions of all our teachers at school. I got told off about it all the time, but it was worth it."

"I bet you were really popular, weren't you?" Adara turned her face to Nicholas, just making out his mad curls surrounding his head.

"Kind of, I suppose. There weren't a lot of us, so everyone just got along with everyone, really." Adara could see the outline of Nicholas's shoulders shrug, but he was still smiling. "What about you? Were you popular?"

Then it was Adara's turn to shrug. "I took the last year of school off after my parents died, and I didn't really see anyone for that time. Before that I guess I had a few friends. Like you said, there weren't a lot of us. The amount of people from school that turned up after the Reaping, though," Adara laughed to herself, though it really wasn't that funny. "You'd have thought everyone was in love with me or something."

"I can imagine that," Nicholas replied. "The way you charm everyone, half the school probably thought you were their girlfriend."

Adara couldn't help laughing again, and this time Nicholas joined in. The idea of every male in District Twelve lining up at Adara's door seemed so ridiculous that it took them a few minutes to recover, and realise that it probably wasn't a good idea to laugh so loudly in the arena at night.

"Come on, you should get some sleep," Adara started to get up, ushering Nicholas towards the door in the hedge. "We should both be safe to sleep at the same time, as long as no one else has figured out the hedge trick yet. But I'll stay up to keep an eye on things just in-"

"No, you won't," Nicholas interrupted, turning to face Adara. "We're both sleeping. Even if someone has figured out the hedges are hollow, it would take them ages to check every hedge in this place. You're sleeping." His voice was firm again, making Adara smile. He seemed so different to the boy she'd met at the Reapings only a few weeks ago.

"All right, pipsqueak. We both sleep." She shook her head, still smiling, and hustled him into the hedge, following after him. As she turned to pick up the door, she checked around one last time. Her first day in the arena hadn't been as bad as she'd expected. But she knew the worst was yet to come.

* * *

Haymitch lay on top of his bed, fully clothed, staring at the ceiling. He knew the people in the rooms around him were probably fast asleep, worn out from the excitement of the first day of the Games. But, as usual, Haymitch was avoiding sleep. The first night after the Games began always brought with it the worst nightmares. He knew Effie would be knocking on his door at seven o'clock sharp, so the longer he could put off drifting away, the better.

Eventually, staring at the ceiling wasn't enough to ward off sleep and he rolled on to his side, wondering if he could sneak into the dining hall for a drink. His eyes closed as he thought wistfully of how much better he would feel after a few glasses of wine. How relaxed it would make him, the cool liquid flowing past his lips and down his throat, warming his body. How he could possibly drink enough so that he would sleep without nightmares for once...

Haymitch sat up suddenly, opening his eyes and shaking his head. He still had at least a few days left of being a mentor, which meant no getting drunk, and definitely no passing out. Besides, he'd tried that before, and all it did was make the nightmares slightly blurrier. Sighing, he reached out for the remote, and turned on the television on his wall. He immediately had to shield his eyes from the bright light.

The Capitol liked to broadcast the Games live twenty-four hours a day on its own channel, then in the evenings show a special programme, recapping the highlights. Haymitch flicked through the channels until he found the one he was looking for. The camera was focused, as it often was, on the Career tributes. Three of them were obviously sleeping, while Sparks and the girl from One sat leaning against the hedges, each looking in different directions. Though Sparks was wide awake, the girl from One was clearly trying hard not to drift off.

"You'd better stay awake, fairy girl." Sparks's voice rang throughout Haymitch's room, louder than he'd expected. He turned the volume down as the tribute from Three carried on talking. "You never know what might happen if you let your guard down."

"Oh, shut it, Sparky," the girl from One yawned visibly, "It used to be adorable when you tried to be menacing, but now it's just pathetic. I don't even know why Julius let you come with us."

"Maybe because I can actually fight, rather than just batting my eyelashes to get what I want," Sparks growled back, staying unnaturally still and keeping her focus straight ahead of her. "You're only here as eye candy."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Even in the dark of the arena, the blonde girl's smirk was clearly visible. "There's no need to be jealous, Sparky - I could teach you if you like. We could do our make-up, our nails, braid each other's hair..." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

When Sparks didn't reply, she carried on. "Of course, we wouldn't want to go too far. We'd still actually keep our clothes on, unlike some I could mention." Her laugh echoed in the silence, melodic but harsh. "Call me all the names you like, Sparks, but at least I knew where to draw the line when trying to get sponsors. I can keep my dignity."

"I wouldn't call it dignity," Sparks replied in a low voice, but before the girl from One could protest she carried on. "It really gets on your nerves, doesn't it?"

"What does?" The blonde girl turned slightly to face Sparks, before catching herself and turning back again.

"The fact that the Capitol prefers her to you. You're so used to being the prettiest, the popular one, and you've always got that by being silly and giggly. But now that's not enough. Then along she comes, not only pretty, but capable, with the ability to make everyone love her, and you can't stand it." Sparks spat out the last few words, and then there was silence. It was obvious she had hit a nerve, as the girl from One didn't protest.

The silence hung between the two tributes, the topic of their conversation still ringing in their ears. Eventually, Sparks broke the silence. "Don't worry, I can't stand her either. And if only one of us can win, it's sure as hell not going to be her." The girl from One's smile could be seen faintly through the darkness, before Sparks added, "Which reminds me-"

Turning around, Sparks lunged at the girl from One, pinning her to the ground. When the blonde girl began struggling and screaming, Sparks had already brought a knife out from her waistband. Without hesitation, she used all her weight to stab it into the girl's chest, twisting it menacingly. "Sweet dreams, fairy girl." Sparks grinned as the girl stopped struggling, her scream cut off in her throat. She grinned even further at the visible change in the girl's eyes, as she gave up gasping for breath, and her head lolled backwards.

As Sparks pulled the blood-covered knife out, wiping it on her t-shirt, dark shapes around her began to move, and a sleepy voice called out, "Who died this time?"

"Fairy girl. Anyone have a problem with that?" Sparks called back, putting the knife back in her waistband and moving away from her victim. As she spoke, one of the dark shapes grew and moved towards her.

"I'll move the body somewhere else. When I get back, you can sleep - I'll guard until morning." Julius picked up the blonde girl's body and flung it over his shoulder, drops of blood landing on his clothes. He started to move away with the body, and a cannon went off somewhere in the arena.

Haymitch pointed the remote at the television and turned it off, plummeting the room into darkness again. He'd seen enough. Every year, he thought nothing in the Games would surprise him. He assumed he'd seen it all. Every year he was wrong. As he lay back, lethargy took over, and he knew exactly what was waiting for him when he slept.


End file.
